Chapter One
Sarah's POV
I've run a pet rescue shop for five years. I've lost count of the animals I've saved. Around the neighborhood, people call me the good Samaritan of Main Street. My husband, Adam Carter, and I have been married five years, and he's always been gentle and attentive.
It's a rainy night in late fall, and I come across an injured starling in the alley on my way home, its wing broken.
The second I scoop it into my arms, a man's voice cuts through the dark.
"Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Whatever you do, don't go home. Your husband's going to sneak out with your best friend, and on the road, they're going to hit someone and kill them. Then they're going to run, and they're going to pin it on you."
I look down into the starling's eyes, and the color drains out of my face.
Five years of what I thought was love, and it was just a trap waiting to close in.
A talking bird. Nobody's going to believe that if I go to the cops.
I don't even think twice. I just take the bird and head downtown.
It's ten at night when I lock up the shop and pop open my umbrella, walking into the dim alley I always cut through on my way home.
Right as I'm about to reach the mouth of the alley, something catches the light in a puddle at my feet.
I stop and lean down, squinting in the weak glow of the streetlamp.
It's a starling. Its feathers shimmer with a metallic purple-green sheen even in the dark, dotted with little flecks of white, like some kind of living artwork.
The bird's thrashing in the mud, one wing hanging limp. Broken, clearly.
Years of habit kick in before I even think about it. I pull a towel out of my bag and wrap it around the bird, cradling it against my chest.
"Hey, it's okay, little guy. I've got you. I'll patch you up back at the shop." I keep my voice soft and turn to head back.
That's when a man's voice cracks through the air right next to my ear.
"Sarah Mercer. You're in danger."
I freeze and spin around, but there's nobody there. Just the rain and the wind.
"Who's there?" I shout. "Who said that?"
No answer.
I swallow hard, telling myself I've just been overworking myself lately, and now I'm hearing things.
I shake my head, hug the bird closer, and pick up my pace.
"You're not hearing things. Look down. Look at me." The voice comes again, and this time there's no mistaking where it's coming from. It's right in my arms.
I snap my head down and lock eyes with the starling.
Its eyes are too deep, too knowing for a bird. Its beak parts slightly, and the voice comes again. "You did something good for my kind once. My name's Corvus. I'm here to warn you."
My hands jerk, and I almost drop it straight into the puddle.
A bird. Talking to me. And it knows my name?
"Don't let go, that hurts." Corvus sounds almost resigned. "Listen, we don't have much time. I saw something. Tomorrow night you're in real danger. Eight o'clock, your husband, Adam Carter, is going to sneak out with his mistress, Danielle Shaw, in your red Mini. They're going to hit someone on the rural highway outside town, and it's going to kill them. Then they're going to run. And they're going to make sure it lands on you."
My mind goes blank.
Adam? Cheating? Killing someone? Framing me?
There's no way. We've been married five years, and he's always been such a calm, easygoing man. And Danielle, she's been my best friend for ten years. I gave her ten percent of the shop myself.
"What are you? Some kind of monster? What are you even talking about?" I force the fear down, but my voice shakes anyway.
"You have to believe me." Corvus closes its eyes. "Just remember. Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Don't go home."
It doesn't say anything else after that. It just goes quiet again, a weak little bird.
I don't even remember the walk home.
Rain soaks through half my shoulder, freezing against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the cold sitting in my chest.
I push open the front door to warm yellow light. Adam's on the couch, watching TV.
He hears me and jumps up right away, crossing the room to take the umbrella out of my hands, his eyes soft with concern.
"Babe, you're soaked. Go get a hot shower, I'll heat up some milk for you." His voice is as gentle as it's always been.
Half an hour ago, that would've made my whole night. Now my stomach just turns over.
I force a smile like nothing's wrong. "Picked up an injured bird on the way home, that's what took me so long. I'm gonna go shower."
I set Corvus up in the spare cage in the living room and head to the bathroom.
Standing under the water, I can't stop replaying what Corvus told me.
When I come out, Adam's already got the milk waiting on the coffee table. He's got his back to me, standing by the cabinet near the front door, doing something with his hands.
"Hey, what are you looking for?" I ease my steps and let the question slip out.
