Christopher, my husband of fourteen years, had texted me half an hour earlier, saying a meeting two states away would last until dawn.
“Toby? What happened?”
“Just trust me, Mom. I’ll explain later.”
I didn’t ask anything else.
I turned off the main breaker, and the entire house went completely dark.
During the renovation, I’d built a small safe room behind an oak armoire to store documents, blueprints, and a few belongings that had been my father’s.
Christopher never knew it existed.
I went inside, closed the panel, and crouched down with one hand over my mouth.
A few minutes later, I heard a key in the front door.
Footsteps. Slow. Far too careful to be my husband’s normal footsteps.
He climbed the stairs and stopped in front of the bedroom.
Through a tiny ventilation opening, I saw a figure enter.
It was Christopher.
He wore a dark beanie, a thick jacket, and gloves.
