Addison returned home to find a ratty brown box sitting on top of the dining room table. It contained items relating to the car crash. Lia had dropped it by earlier, texting Addison to say she’d been given permission to look through it since the case was so old, and it hadn’t been touched in decades. Addison grabbed the box’s lid, but before she lifted it, Amara Jane stirred in the next room. Addison released the lid and backed away. The box could wait. Caring for her daughter could not.
Addison took Amara Jane into her arms, gave her a gentle kiss, and sat back on the chair, rocking her sweet child back to sleep again. She thought of Sara and how young she’d been when she’d lost her life—far too young to be ripped away from her mother.
Once Amara Jane was sleeping again, Addison placed her into the bassinet and then slid into bed beside it. Luke rolled over, produced a sleepy smile, and rubbed Addison’s arm. He mumbled a question about the time. Addison said it was past midnight, and he nodded, turning to his side to doze off again. She snuggled in next to him and closed her eyes. It had been a long, tiresome day. Sleep should have been effortless.
It wasn’t.
A faint glow radiated from the crack beneath the bedroom door, pulsing off and on like a siren.
How strange.
Addison’s evening ritual included walking through each room of the house, making sure the doors were locked and the lights were switched off before she retired to bed. Tonight had been no different. So where was the light coming from? She tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful not to rouse her two sleeping beauties, and stepped into the hallway. Glancing around, she located the source of the light. It came from the main level of the house. She descended the stairs, pausing when she reached the bottom.
If all the lights had been out, it was possible they had an intruder.
For a moment, she considered backing up the stairs and waking Luke.
She didn’t.
She crouched down and surveyed the main floor of the house. The living room was dark. The hallway was dark. The kitchen was not. She crept to the corner dividing the living room and the kitchen and backed against the wall.
“Hello?” she whispered. “Is someone there?”
She was met with silence.
“If someone is there, you are trespassing, and I am armed. Step out so I can see you.”
By armed, she was referring to the only viable weapon she’d seen before she headed out of the bedroom—a fork resting on a plate on Luke’s bedside table.
“Is anyone there?” Addison asked. “Last chance to show yourself.”
The house remained quiet.
Addison took a deep breath and poked part of her head around the corner. The source of the light was in plain sight, sitting where she’d left it on the table. It was the box, and it appeared to be illuminated from the inside.