Page 203 of Never Die for a Sinner
Nothing.
Which is somehow worse.
Slowly, I reach for the small drawer under the hallway table, where I tucked my grandmother’s old revolver earlier today while cleaning. The handle is cold and familiar in my palm, the weight grounding me just enough to keep the panic at bay.
I inch toward the kitchen, heart thudding against my ribs like it’s trying to warn me of something my mind hasn’t caught up to yet.
When I round the corner, everything looks the same—except for one detail.
The back door is cracked open.
Not much. Just a sliver. Barely enough to notice unless you’re looking.
But Iamlooking.
And I know damn well I locked it earlier.
The cold air creeping through the opening brushes against my bare arms, and suddenly I’m not sure if it’s the chill or fear that raises goosebumps along my skin.
I lift the gun and take one step closer, peering out through the gap.
The clearing looks empty. Still. Snow dusts the back porch, undisturbed.
But that doesn’t mean someone didn’t already come in.
I step back and shut the door quietly, clicking the lock into place. Then I twist the deadbolt for good measure. My breath catches when I turn and notice—
One of the mugs from the drying rack is missing.
It had been there earlier. I remember. Blue ceramic with a chip along the rim. Gran’s favorite.
Now it’s gone.
Which means someone was here.
Maybe still is.
My grip on the revolver tightens. I move quickly, silently, checking the rest of the cottage room by room, until I reach the last place—Gran’s old bedroom. The door is mostly closed, just barely ajar.
I swear I didn’t leave it like that.
I don’t breathe as I nudge it open with the toe of my shoe.
Inside, the bed is untouched. The closet door is open an inch.
My heart pounds so loud I’m sure whoever might be hiding inside can hear it.
I raise the gun, hand steady, voice low and hard. “If you’re in there, you’ve got three seconds to step out before I put a hole in the door.”
Silence.
Then—
A soft creak.
I don’t wait. I kick the closet door open and step back, gun raised.
Empty.
