As Elena came back, Adria noticed the object was a medium-sized rock. Elena swung her hand back, winding up to throw her newfound miniature boulder at the foyer window.
“Wait,” Adria yelled, waving her arms.
Elena froze.
“Just give me one second,” Adria said, pulling out her phone. The similarities between Bryson and Elena just kept piling up.
Adria: Frances, I’m here. I need to use my key, I’ll explain later.
Terrified that Elena would follow through on her plan to begin bashing windows open, Adria didn’t wait for Frances to respond before pushing the key into the lock and opening the door.
The house was silent and when Adria stepped in, the heaviness of the air put her nerves on edge.
Light streamed in from the windows, warming the surrounding space, but the home was unwelcoming. There was a coldness to the familiar space that unsettled Adria. She glanced back at Eric, who moved quickly ahead of her.
“No one’s home?” he asked, grabbing the Glock from his belt.
She shrugged.
He moved to the right.
Frances wasn’t here, but Adria had expectedsomeoneto be here.
She took a turn around the room. There was a layer of dust on the end table by the door and the air tasted stale. There was also a foul smell that lingered around them.
Subtle, but the sourness was distinct and demanded attention.
After a few moments, Eric returned.
“First floor is clear.”
The three of them simultaneously looked at the staircase to their right.
Elena, seeming to sense the tenor of the situation, for once, was silent. The three of them took the stairs quietly.
On the second floor, there was no escaping the smell. It hovered in the air, prodding their senses.
Familiar.
Each one of them knew what it meant, but they remained quiet.
Dust clung to the lamps and furniture they passed by. The air was still, as if the manor was holding its breath. Waiting for them to move further, and discover its secrets.
Adria replayed all the text message conversations she’d had with Frances over the past few weeks. It was clear now that everything they had spoken about was a lie. She tried to decide if there was a clue. Some hidden message she had missed.
When they opened the door to Loretta’s study, the scent punched her in the face, and Adria knew they had found its source.
Frances lay decomposing on the plush carpet floor.
Her hair stuck to her face, covered in blood.
Adria fell to her knees.
They hadn’t even bothered to move her.
They just left her here.
Whoever did this knew no one was coming.
