Who will guard the guards themselves?
(quis custodiet ipsos custodes?) -Juvenal, Roman poet and satirist (55 AD – 127AD)

PROLOGUE

I walked back into my bedroom, carrying my toothbrush, make-up, and hair products to put into my bag to see my mom hovering over the duffel with an arm-full of my favorite clothes that she was attempting to shove into it.

“Lily, sweetie, you have several changes of clothes just in case the weather decides to be uncooperative this weekend, right?” my mother, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Cassandra Olivier, asked as her trembling hands put more items than was necessary in my overnight bag.

I laughed softly at my frazzled mom and placed a reassuring hand on her upper arm, causing her to jump with a start, “Mom, calm down. I’m just going to Aunt Barb’s for the weekend while you and dad get the whole house for a romantic couple of days by yourselves. This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last until you ship me off to college in two years.”

She turned to face me with a look of grief spreading over her features as she quickly pulled Lily into a tight hug that entangled her fingers in my golden-red curls, “Your father and I love you so much. We’re so proud of who you are becoming, darling.”

I rolled my eyes and patted my sentimental mother on the back then turned to zip my duffel bag closed before Mom could shove any other non-essentials into it, making it too heavy for me to carry. Bright headlights flashed across the window as a car horn honked from the driveway.

“Finally!” my mother shouted as she tightly grasped me by the wrist and started to sprint toward the front door.

Usually my father, Philip, would be sitting on the couch watching re-runs of his favorite sit-coms while simultaneously reading the newspaper. However, this very odd night had him standing at the large front window. His body was clearly coiled tightly from tension and the moment he heard his girls rush into the room he turned to them. Taking a deep, shaky breath he ran his fingers through his light brown hair and locked his almond-shaped emerald eyes on their exact match in my face. He then rushed over and pulled her into an embrace so tight I thought that I might faint.

“Easy with the bear hug, Dad. I can’t breathe. What’s up with you two tonight?”