She caught sight of something dark in the branches of the old quince tree in front of the house.

It was a crow, sitting as still as the yellowtinged leaves around it. And it was the thing watching her.

She tried to tell herself that this was ridiculous, but somehow she knew. It was the biggest crow she had ever seen, plump and sleek, with rainbows shining in its black feathers. She could see every detail of it clearly: the greedy dark claws, the sharp beak, the single glittering black eye.

It was so motionless that it might have been a wax model of a bird sitting there. But as she stared at it, Elena felt herself flush slowly, heat coming in waves up her throat and cheeks.

Because it was… looking at her. Looking the way boys looked at her when she wore a bathing suit or a sheer blouse. As if it were undressing her with its eyes.