At my parents’ house, I parked my car in the driveway. My parents had taken a cab to the airport, and their BMW took up most of the space in the two-car garage. I glanced at the neighbors’ houses but did my best not to look at the one that would cause me the most pain.
A memory slipped in from the last time I’d been in the house. It was a memory that I had forgotten until now. Dad had called me, asking if I could find some legal documents in Nolan’s house. He didn’t have time to come back to find them, and wanted me to take a look.
That’s when I had accidentally found the letters I wasn’t sure Nolan had known about. The letters from his mother to her lover.
Unease spread through me at the memory, but I couldn’t figure out why.
Still avoiding looking at Nolan’s old house, I removed my suitcase from the trunk and wheeled it to the front door. I unlocked the door and entered the house I hadn’t visited for a few weeks now.
I couldn’t tell if anyone was at home in the houses on either side of my parents’. Not that it mattered. The neighbors I’d grown up with had long since moved away. I hadn’t yet met the ones who now lived there.
After putting away the groceries I’d brought with me, I went upstairs. My room had changed since I’d left home. Once decorated with posters of my favorite bands and actors, it had long since been converted into a guest room. But Mom had gotten slightly carried away after watching a home decorating show, and the room now resembled one from a fancy bed-and-breakfast. The alarm clock was off by over four hours. I walked to the nightstand and adjusted the time.
After unpacking my suitcase, I went down to make dinner. Like the alarm clock in my room, the microwave clock was also behind by over four hours. There must have been a power outage after my parents left. I reset the clock.
My phone pinged. It was a text from Mom to tell me they had arrived safely in Florida, the first leg of their trip.
Have fun! I replied. And make sure Dad doesn’t forget the sunscreen this time. :)
Once dinner was ready, I carried the soup and grilled cheese sandwich into the living room. Purposely avoiding the entertainment news, I found one of my favorite shows. But somehow watching the FBI track down a serial killer didn’t appeal to me when I was alone in a big house. And especially not when Nolyssa fans wanted to see me “removed from the planet” because I didn’t “deserve to exist.”
I eventually settled on a sitcom. By the time the closing credits came on, the world outside the window was a dusky black. I stood up to close the curtains. The Christmas lights on the house to the right of my parents’ home were on, as were the living room lights. Nolan’s house was dark. No big surprise there.
As the next show ended, the doorbell rang. I didn’t feel like answering it, but since it was obvious someone was home and it might be important, I walked to the front door and peeked through the peephole. The guy looked familiar and it took me a second to remember why. It was Lindsey’s stepfather.
Confused what he was doing here, I cautiously opened the door. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.
“I didn’t know you live here,” he said.
Smiling, I opened the door a little wider. “I don’t. I’m house-sitting for my parents. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I realized our flashlight batteries are dead, and my wife’s worried we’ll have another power outage like the neighborhood had last night. I was going to ask if you had any we could borrow, but since this isn’t your house, you probably have no idea.”
I laughed. “You obviously don’t know my parents very well. I swear they can’t survive unless they’re fully stocked with batteries.” I stepped back so he could enter, and I shut the door behind him. “What size do you need?”
“Double A’s. Four of them.” A familiar spicy aftershave brushed past me.
Why the hell did you bring her here?
Even though I was safe in my parents’ home, my pulse accelerated, my heart slamming against my ribs in its haste to get away. Whoa. What the hell just happened?
“You okay?” Lindsey’s stepdad asked, frowning in concern.
I nodded. “I just remembered something.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing, really. The batteries are in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”
Pushing away the old memory, I entered the kitchen and went straight for the battery drawer. Yes, some families had a junk drawer. My parents had a battery drawer. I peered in at the organized array of different sizes.
Without warning, a thin wire dug into my neck from behind, cutting into my skin. Choking me. I grabbed it with both hands, struggling to keep it from ending my life. The familiar odor assaulted me again, and I briefly flashed back to that night once more. Of being hit on the back of my head. In Nolan’s house.