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ADELINE

By the time Briony and Maren Harrington drop us off at the hotel, I’m running on fumes. My feet ache, my legs are screaming, and even pressing the elevator button feels like a full-body workout.

Somewhere between the lobby and the elevator, Katya vanishes — probably off charming the front desk clerk — and texts me to “go warm up the room.” Which is her code for “make sure no serial killer