Cass's failed escapes weren't for lack of trying.
Like he'd promised, Uriel had taken her cuffs off after the autopsy, sliding the silver-lined shackles from her wrists without so much as a glance at the annoyed look on her face. The faint red indentations where the metal had bitten into her skin were a tattoo, a reminder that he wasn't playing around, as if she needed one. Once he was out of sight and the mansion returned to its usual eerie quiet, Cass had wasted no time. She'd snuck outside, hiding in the shadows, treading softly through the snow, hoping that freedom lay just beyond the tree line.
