Page 243 of The Sinner: James

The place is beautiful. The morning is perfect.

It’s windy, and the sky is mostly clear, a few clouds speeding across, pushed by the breeze.

I could write and live in a place like this.

A small house would be enough for me.

My life would be perfect if I had the ocean nearby and the seagulls, despite how annoying they can be at times.

I can see myself lounging in a wicker chair on the porch, sipping margaritas, and plotting new stories.

Hmm…

Smiling, I indulge in that fantasy before pushing the image back and looking around.

The house is eerily quiet for this time of day.

The staff would normally be in the kitchen, preparing the food, or on the patio, setting the breakfast table.

James and his friends would be up by now, too, working out, swimming in the ocean, or jogging.

Their voices would resonate in the air, and James would surely be on the phone, talking about his business dealings with some people.

Something doesn’t feel right.

I roll over and crawl across the bed before lifting my phone from the nightstand and flipping it over.

It’s almost ten.

Sitting upright, I shift my eyes to the beach and look for them.

The shore is deserted.

I clamber out of bed, wrap the sheet around my chest, take the stairs down, and glance around.

The water ripples in the pool, the vegetation swaying in the wind.

I walk onto the sandy beach, shielding my eyes from the sun while looking down the beach again.

No trace of them.

Intrigued, I spin around and make the trip back. Sunk in thought, I enter the house and stroll across the vast rooms.

All I’m greeted with is an empty place.

Grappling with an unsettling feeling, I keep searching for them, although it feels like I’m the only one here.

There are no signs of people, and time stood still, it seems.

The place looks like no memories have been created here.

The bedroom doors are wide open, and the beds are made and untouched as if no one has slept in them for days or ever.

I check the walk-in closets, and they’re empty too.

I dash back to my bedroom, toss the sheet on the bed, pick up my underwear, shorts, and a T-shirt, and get dressed in a hurry.

The smell of coffee wafts through the house again, and I turn to stone.

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