Avery shivers on the deck of the yacht. The wind is blowing wildly, and the air is damp and cold. Sarah comes up behind her and drapes the coat over her shoulders, and Avery wraps her arms around herself and looks at the dark and gloomy sky. Without warning, large raindrops begin to drip onto her face. She crosses the deck and huddles under a white canopy, but the rain blows from all directions—it's impossible to escape the storm.

Avery's phone buzzes in her pocket, and she pulls it out immediately, hoping it's Evan. Instead, she sees a series of gory photos. First, there's a close up of a man's hand. The man is wearing a skull-shaped silver ring, and one of his fingernails has been pulled out, leaving a bloody stump. The next photo shows the man's face: it's Bryan. Her stomach twists, and she leans over the railing and reaches into the water.

She takes a deep breath and looks at her phone again. There's a message with the texts: "Pay his debts, or we'll take the next nail." The phone buzzes again, and there's a photo of a pair of pliers next to Bryan's hand. Avery looks out over the choppy, gray water and wishes the yacht would move faster.

Leonie stands behind the door, watching her mother and Mrs. Florence Howel. The two are watching TV in Florence's private sitting room, and Leonie is getting bored of spying on them. Suddenly the phone rings. Florence answers it, and her wrinkles deepen as she frowns and nods. She sighs heavily and gently hangs up the old, ivory telephone. Leonie steps out from her hiding place, wrinkling her forehead with concern.

"What's the matter, Mrs. Howel?" Leonie asks sweetly. "You look worried—what happened?"

"Oh, I just had a troubling call from my husband," Florence says.

"What did Mr. Francis Howel say?" Leonie asks, trying to keep herself from sounding too interested.

"Maureen, go to the back parlor and let me know if that woman is back," Florence says, ignoring Leonie's question. "The servants told me she took the yacht out to the island, but she should be back by now."

"Avery, you mean?" Leonie asks jealousy.

"Yes, dear," Florence says. "You know I wouldn't waste my time worrying about her normally, but my husband is very concerned about her pregnancy. He's asked me to make sure that nothing happens to her, so I'm afraid I have to put aside my personal feelings for the time being."

Florence pats the sofa cushion next to her, and Leonie quickly crosses the room and sits down. Florence takes Leonie's soft hand in her old wrinkled one and squeezes it gently.

"You're pregnant too, dear, and you need to take care of yourself," Florence says. "It's late—you should go to bed and stop worrying about all this."

"Mrs. Howel is right, you know," Fiona says. "You've been through a lot, and you need to be careful—I'd hate to see you back in the hospital."

"I'm fine, Mom," Leonie says, rolling her eyes at Fiona. She turns back to Florence, quickly changing her irritated scowl for a charming smile. She says, "Let me go with Maureen, Mrs. Howel. I'm afraid she won't be able to handle Avery on her own—you know the two of them have a bad history. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to Avery."

"You're a very sweet, dear, but I can't let you go," Florence says. "It's an ugly night, and it's not safe for you to go out in this sort of weather."

"I promise it'll be alright," Leonie says. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll go with her," Fiona says, standing up.

Florence sighs and nods. Leonie smiles winningly at the older woman and then follows Maureen and a group of bodyguards out into the stormy night.

It takes the boat longer to return from the island than it did to go out. The choppy sea rocks it back and forth, and it feels like an eternity before they're at the dock again. Avery climbs down the slippery ramp, stumbling slightly in her heels. Sarah grabs her arm to steady her and guides her the rest of the way down. Avery squints through the rain—there's a large group of people gathered at the entrance to the marina. Avery can clearly see Leonie and Fiona standing at the front.

"Sarah, please get the driver to come to pick me up," Avery says. "I don't really want to deal with any of them right now."

Sarah nods and rushes away to call the driver. Avery wraps the coat more tightly around herself and starts to walk toward the entrance. Leonie walks to meet her, blocking her path. Though it's cold and rainy, Leonie is wearing a pale pink sundress. The light cotton blows in the wind and flaps around Leonie's thin calves.

"Where are you going at such a late hour, Avery?" Leonie asks.

Avery ignores the question and tries to push past Leonie, but Leonie grabs her arm. Her pink fingernails dig sharply into Avery's skin.

"Get off me, Leonie," Avery says impatiently.

"Mrs. Howel, the driver, says he can only take you back to the mansion," Sarah says, running over. "He says he's acting on Mrs. Florence Howel's direct orders."

Avery sighs and looks up at the stormy sky. She wonders if Mrs. Florence Howel plans to punish her again—she can't let the old woman do anything that could hurt the baby. Besides, Bryan is in danger, and she has to get to him immediately. She bites her lip and starts to walk toward the entrance. The bodyguards behind Fiona split up and surrounded her.

"Sweet Mrs. Howel is worried that it's dangerous for you to be out and about on a night like this," Leonie says with a toothy smile. "Perhaps she's worried about your unborn baby."

Avery tries to push past the guards, but Fiona grabs her by the coat. She jerks the coat off Avery's shoulders, revealing the wet and ruined gown underneath. She looks at the soaking gown and the muddy heels and smiles nastily.

"I thought you said you were meeting Evan for a date?" Fiona asks. "But where is he? Did he stand you up? Or was there never actually a date? You know, I'm beginning to wonder if all those gifts are even from Evan—maybe you bought them for yourself. Your delusions are pathetic and worrying. You need to come back to the mansion now, so one of the doctors can examine you."

The wind whines, and the violent sea slaps against the wooden docks, but Fiona's cold voice is louder than it all. Avery's heart twists painfully—she's been asking herself the same thing all night. Still, she refuses to let Fiona see how much her words hurt. She looks past Fiona and the bodyguards to the road outside, hoping to spot a taxi. Except for the Howel cars, the roads are almost deserted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a silvery gleam and then the flare of a match and the soft orange glow of a cigarette. A Bugatti Veyron is parked under a willow tree, and a long hand hangs out the window. Is Andrew still here? Avery thinks. As if dealing with Leonie and Fiona wasn't enough, now I have to deal with him too?

Her phone buzzes again, and a new bloody picture appears on the screen. Bryan's hand is missing its middle fingernail, and the bloodstains his silver skull ring. Avery glares down at Fiona, and the shorter woman takes an unconscious step backward.

"Are you telling me what to do, Fiona?" Avery asks. "Where do you think you get the right to order me around? Last I checked, you weren't a representative of the Howel family—just a pathetic hanger-on. You have no authority over me."

"Old Mrs. Howel entrusted me to help take you home," Fiona says, definitely looking up at Avery. "I don't know why you're resisting—it's your home too, after all. You said you were going to meet Evan, but that was clearly a lie. So who are you all dressed up for, hmm? Are you here for a secret affair with Andrew? Or maybe some other man?"

"I'm going to take a photo of you to show Mrs. Howel," Leonie says, snapping a picture of Avery with her phone. "I'm sure she'll be very interested to know that you're risking the Howel heir for the sake of some other man."

Avery glares at the camera and then pushes past Leonie, Fiona, and the guards. She knows that none of them dare to use force for fear of hurting her and the baby. She crosses the road to the willow tree. Leonie, Fiona, and the guards splash along behind her, and Leonie grabs her arm. Without looking back, Avery reaches up and pulls the willow branch above her head. Coldwater showers down on Leonie and Leonie jerks her hand away in surprise.

"You're soaked, Leonie," Avery says. "You'd better hurry back to the mansion before you get sick. I'd hate for you to lose your baby on my account."

Leonie lunges forward, and Avery raises her hand again. Fear flickers across Leonie's face, and she stumbles backward. Instead of hitting her, Avery plucks a pale green leaf from the tree and twists it between her fingers.

"I'm warning all of you to leave me alone," Avery shouts.

She's surprised when the guards begin to back away. She didn't expect them to listen to her orders. Then she sees one of the guards is dragging Sarah away too.

"Wait, what's happening?" Avery shouts.

"Mrs. Florence Howel just ordered us all to leave you alone," a bodyguard says. "She says you should be allowed to do whatever you want. She says we can't do anything that might hurt you or the child you're carrying. She says she's acting on Mr. Francis Howel's direct orders."

"Did you hear that?" Avery asked, raising an eyebrow at Leonie. "You're pregnant too, but Florence doesn't seem to care about what happens to your child. I wonder why that is? Oh, probably because my child is a Howel, and yours isn't."

"How can you say that?" Leonie wails. "You're obviously just jealous of me, you bitch."

Fiona puts a comforting arm on Leonie's shoulder. Avery checks her phone again and sees that Bryan is missing a third fingernail. Her stomach clenches—she's running out of time to help him. Who knows what his kidnappers will do when they run out of fingernails?