Lunch was supposed to be at noon. It was five past. His mom always had something going by now, filling the house with the smell of roasted meat or baking bread. Even bad cooking had a smell.
This was nothing. Just stale air and dust and wrongness.
Isaac wandered toward the kitchen, footsteps soft on the floor. “I’m starving. Think she made anything good?”
Danny followed, but slower. Listening. Waiting for the usual sounds of his mom bustling around, Laura’s laugh, something to explain the strange quiet pressing against his eardrums.
In the kitchen, everything sat untouched. No pots on the stove, no plates set out, no smell of food cooking or even reheating. Just the hum of the refrigerator and Isaac opening cabinets like he owned the place.
“Nothing?” Isaac frowned at the empty counters. “She invited you to lunch but didn’t make lunch?”
“Maybe she’s running late.” But even as Danny said it, he didn’t believe it. His mom was never late. Never unprepared. Laura’s car was here. Where were they?
A sound drifted from upstairs. Faint. Almost like someone grunting, or maybe struggling with something heavy.
“Did you hear that?” Danny’s blood turned cold.
Isaac tilted his head, listening. “Yeah.”
There it was again. Muffled, coming from the second floor. Danny’s skin prickled, every instinct screaming that something was very, very wrong.
Danny’s fingers went numb. He fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it twice before getting it unlocked. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“What are you doing?” Isaac whispered.
“Texting Ash.” Danny’s thumbs kept hitting the wrong keys. He had to delete and retype three times before he managed to get the message out.
At moms house. Something feels hinkt
Danny deleted and tried again.
At moms house. Somethin feels hinky
Good enough. Send.
Isaac grabbed his wrist. “Get behind me.”
“What? No, I—”
“Now, Danny.” Something in Isaac’s voice left no room for argument. Gone was the dramatic best friend who complained about basic-bitch nail polish colors. In his place stood someone Danny barely recognized, features grim.
Danny moved behind him without another word.
Together they crept toward the stairs, every footfall deliberate and slow. Carpet muffled their steps but Danny’s heart hammered so loud he was certain anyone in the house could hear it. His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it. Probably Ash responding.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
Isaac froze on the third step. Danny nearly crashed into his back.
Another muffled sound. Louder now. Coming from his mom’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
Every instinct screamed at Danny to run. To grab Isaac and get the hell out of this house. Call the cops from the car, let them handle whatever nightmare waited upstairs.
But Laura might’ve been up there. His mom might’ve also been up there.
He couldn’t leave them.
That desperate, muffled sound kept coming from the second floor. Danny’s legs moved on autopilot as he followed Isaac up the stairs, each step creaking under their weight.
