Page 51 of In The Dark
What the fuck?
“Hello?” I reach for the small pepper spray attached to my keychain. Closing the front door behind me, I grab a book sitting on the foyer table. I refuse to be the idiot in the horror movies who doesn’t protect herself, but there’s no answer as I tiptoe down the hallway. “Sky?”
The kitchen is empty, but there’s a glass of water next to the sink and a vase of gorgeous sunflowers on the table. I walk toward them, checking for a note but not finding one.
Nothing is missing or out of place in here. The knives are all in their wooden block, and the pots and pans are where they belong. The back door is locked. There’s no blood, no mess that shows any sign of forced entry, and I blow out an exhausted breath.
It’s been a long week at school. Fatigue is setting in, and everything could be explained if I took a second to think clearly. Skyler probably went in my room to borrow something and didn’t close the door behind her.
No big deal.
The rug is messed up because she was in a hurry to get to work, and I set the book on the counter, reassured.
All is well, I tell myself as I open the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
Except…
The shelves are lined with food. There’s chicken and vegetables and a whole watermelon. Ears of corn and a fresh jar of jam. There are even apples and carrots, and I’m fucking baffled.
Skyler knows I hate carrots. I almost choked on one in high school, and I whip my phone out to fire off a text to her.
Me
Hey. Weird question. Did you buy a ton of groceries? If so, let me know how much I owe you!
The message that comes through seconds later makes my heart sink to my toes.
Skyler
I haven’t been home since early this morning. Wasn’t me. Did your mom stop by? Sounds like something she would do!
Itdoessound like something she would do, but she’s out of town on a girl’s trip with her college roommate. It’s not possible she swung by while I was at work when she’s in San Diego, whichmeans someone else has been here. Dread settles in my stomach, and I take a deep breath.
Me
I didn’t even think to ask her, but you’re right. She totally would do that. When you get home, there’s tons to eat.
I swipe out of my conversation with Skyler and dial 911. Calling the police is the smart thing to do. They could come and dust for fingerprints or review security footage from my neighbor’s doorbell cameras. It would establish a paper trail. The complaint I’m filing now would be documented in case this turns into a problem bigger than odd grocery shopping.
A noise from down the hall steals my attention.
I hold my pepper spray in front of me, heading for my room. It’s empty in here too, but there, in the center of my bed, is all my laundry that’s been piling up.
Folded.
Neatly stacked.
Arranged by category.
And a small sticky note attached to one of my socks.
I rush forward and rip it away from the fabric, gaping at the small heart doodled on the paper.
This is all too bizarre. Deeply unsettling, and I hate that I’m here by myself.
Hunter will know what to do, my mind screams. I fumble with my phone, begging the universe to let him pick up. When the call connects after two rings, I almost collapse with relief.
“Max,” he answers. “Hi, angel. This is a nice surprise.”
