The creak had been real.
Inside.
Close.
I moved forward with the slow, controlled precision drilled into me years ago. One step. Pause. Listen. Another step.
Behind me, Nora sat frozen in the doorway, clutching the sheet to her chest, eyes wide and terrified.
I held up a hand.
Stay.
She nodded, barely breathing.
Another sound whispered through the house.
A softclick.
Metal. Faint.
My grip tightened on the gun.
That came from the kitchen.
I edged closer, sweeping corners, checking blind spots. The house felt… wrong. Like someone had walked through it and left the air rearranged.
I rounded the corner—
A shadow darted across the floor.
I lunged, gun raised—
heart in my throat—
And then—
A cat.
A small, fluffy, gray cat.
Nora’s cat.
Sitting on the counter like it owned the entire house and had just staged a home invasion.
I closed my eyes, let out a breath so heavy it nearly turned into a laugh.
Jesus.
The cat blinked at me judgmentally.
Behind me, Nora’s voice trembled.
“Is someone there?”
I lowered the gun. “Yes.”
She gasped.
