And I almost feel sorry for any reckless intruder he finds.
Almost. But they’ve invaded my privacy and that’s unforgivable.
It’s the second time this creep violated my safety, and worse, they’ve made these lovely children feel rattled inmyhome.
I breathe slowly, my nostrils burning as my blood simmers.
Fizzing anger replaces the fear.
Just who the hell do they think they are?
Breaking into my house, scaring my renters? My friends? My—
No, they’re not my kids. Even if they kinda feel like it.
I swallow thickly.
All this craziness must be going to my head.
When Kane reappears on our floor after checking upstairs after what feels like forever, it’s so sudden I jump.
“They’re gone,” he says tersely. I sigh with relief. “Let me have a look outside. If there’s a footprint, any evidence at all, that’ll only help us.”
“Be careful,” I whisper.
His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a nod as he heads out the back door.
For a second, we don’t break our huddle.
Not until Sophie raises her head and looks at me, her little brows knit together. “So… we’re safe?”
“Yes,” I say before I can question it. “We’re safe, Soph. It was probably just some idiot pulling a prank. Who knows. People do crazy things for attention these days, especially if they can show off on TikTok.” I wish I believed that as I walk through the rest of the kitchen, looking for anything else out of place.
Aside from the plate, everything seems untouched.
That’s not much relief when I’m avoiding the mess of ceramic fragments scattered across the floor, sweeping a few stray pieces aside before the kids step on anything. They’re both wearing their shoes, but still…
It’s not a pretty scene.
The sheer force involved tells me this was no accident. It looks more like the plate washurledat the floor intentionally.
But why? What the actual fuck?
Who would be that angry? Who would do such a thing if they were just looking for stuff to steal?
Because maybe they weren’t.
And my hands shake when I think it might be more personal than money.
Please, please don’t let this be about me or Gramps. These sweet kids can’t be scared for their lives all because of some dumb grudge I had nothing to do with.
“Guys, be really careful where you step. I need to sweep this up,” I say, guiding them to the table through a clear path. “Take a seat. Let’s have some hot chocolate while I clean up, okay?”
It won’t fix everything, but maybe it’ll help clear their heads while I try to breathe.
“Want some help?” Dan volunteers eagerly, his shoes tapping the floor. I’m glad they forgot to take them off once we came home to stranger danger.
I almost turn him down, but there’s something urgent about the way he asks.
