Well. When she puts it in those terms ...
I groan. “This is a disaster.”
Annabellecackles. “Babe, this isromance.”
I roll my eyes and stab at my pasta with a wooden spoon. “If this is romance, it’sstressful.”
The sound of her bathwater sloshing in the background fills the silence. Then, “Love is supposed to be a little stressful. That’s what makes it interesting.”
Interesting? Ha!
Before I can respond, a thump echoes from the living room.
I freeze. The kind of freeze where your whole body goes rigid, your breath locks in your throat, and your heart hammers so hard it rattles your ribs.
“Annabelle.” My voice drops to a whisper.
She doesn’t catch on to my fear. “Oh no. Did I break you? Are you having a feelings-inducedcrisis? Because if so, I am so proud of yo—”
“Shh!” I hush her, clutching the phone tighter, straining to listen for more sounds. “I think someone’s outside.”
Silence.
Then—
“What?” Annabelle is suddenly alert. I hear more sloshing as she sits up in her tub. “What do you mean, someone is outside?”
Another thump—closer this time. A scrape against the glass.
I grab the nearest weapon, which happens to be a wooden spoon, because of course. “I heard something by the window.”
“Lucy,” Annabelle hisses. “Are your doors locked?”
Panic floods my chest. My front doorislocked ... but is it? Did I lock it when I walked the groceries up? My brain scrambles, trying to retrace my steps from earlier.
Another noise. A soft rustling, like someone—or something—is moving outside. A wild animal? A cat?
My grip tightens on the spoon. “Shit. What if it’s a murderer?”
“Ya think?” Annabelle practically screeches. “Call the police. Now.”
“It’s coming from the window.”
I inch toward the living room, keeping my steps light, heartslammingagainst my ribs. The curtains are drawn, but there’s a faint shadow shifting against the window.
I barely manage to swallow the fear in my throat. “There’s definitely something out there.”
Annabelle curses. “Lucy, donotopen the door. Call someone—call Harris for the love of G—”
Before I can answer, a loud bang erupts against the glass.
I scream.
Annabelle screams with me.
And then—
A low, snuffling grunt.
