Chapter 7 - The Shadow on the Porch
The harsh white glare of the floodlights pierced straight through the sheer bedroom curtains, casting jagged shadows across the hardwood floor.
I froze mid-stride, my breath catching in my throat. I pressed my back against the wall beneath the window, shifting Noah so he wouldn't startle or cry. The house had been dead quiet for an hour, save for the hum of the refrigerator downstairs.
Creak.
The sound was faint, but unmistakable. Someone was walking across the wooden planks of the front porch.
Not pounding like the police had earlier. Not shouting like Caleb. It was slow, deliberate, and stealthy.
My mind raced. The police had changed the locks, but Evelyn had a spare set somewhere—she had practically lived in our pockets for the last year. Or worse, maybe Caleb had already posted bond through a 24-hour emergency bail bondsman, using the very cash he had siphoned from our accounts.
I crept silently down the hallway toward the top of the stairs, peering down into the dark foyer.
Through the frosted glass panel of the front door, a tall, broad silhouette stood motionless. A hand reached out, trying the brass doorknob. It rattled firmly against the new deadbolt Marcus’s officers had installed earlier.
The silhouette paused. Then, the shadow leaned down, and a faint metallic clinking sound drifted up the stairwell.
They were trying to pick the lock.
My heart thundered against my ribs, so loud I was terrified the intruder would hear it through the floorboards. I couldn't call 911—my phone was sitting on the nightstand upstairs, and moving away from the stairs meant leaving the nursery unprotected.
Slowly, carefully, without making a single sound, I backed away from the stairwell and slipped into the master bathroom. I gently placed Noah inside his portable bassinet on the floor, locking the bathroom door behind us with a quiet click.
Outside in the hallway, a soft metallic click-clack echoed through the house.
May you like
The deadbolt turned.
The front door slowly creaked open.
