Ivy's POV
"Ivy?" I spun around to face my father, plastering on what I hoped was a convincing smile.
"Yes, daddy?" I looked up at him as his eyes scanned my outfit with obvious amusement.
"What exactly are you up to?" He chuckled, gesturing at my all-black ensemble. "Planning a heist?"
I glanced down at my dark hoodie, pants, and boots, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just heading out for a hike."
"In funeral attire, with a flashlight, as the sun's going down?" He crossed his arms, laughing at the absurdity of my excuse.
"Why not?" I tossed a casual wave and bolted before he could interrogate me further. I darted down the stairs and through the kitchen, ignoring Nancy calling after me as I sprinted toward the back of the yard.
After weaving through several patches of woods, I finally spotted my destination—the gazebo. My grandmother's cryptic words echoed in my mind as I made a direct path toward it.
