The moonlight poured in through the grand windows of the Kane villa, silvering the marble floors and casting strange shadows along the ornate hallway. In her room at the far end of the corridor, Mila tossed restlessly beneath the heavy covers.
She was almost asleep when a sudden sound shattered the quiet. A tinny, distorted melody played from her toy shelf—the little wind-up monkey Vivienne had purchased for her to play with. Its cymbals clashed, echoing off the walls, the noise jagged and unnatural in the darkness.
Mila's heart pounded. She sat bolt upright, clutching her blanket to her chest. The toy's eyes gleamed red in the shadows, and for a terrifying moment, she was certain someone—something—was in the room with her. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it all away, but the music only grew louder in her imagination.
