A tiny folded piece of paper.
Sadie picked it up.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
She unfolded it.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She handed it to me.
The handwriting was fresh.
Not faded.
Not old.
And I knew it instantly.
Christopher’s handwriting.
There were only six words.
CLAIRE, THOMAS IS LYING. RUN NOW.
I stared at the message.
Then I noticed the date beneath it.
September 30.
Yesterday.
The day Christopher died.
I slowly raised my eyes toward Thomas.
His expression had changed.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Fear.
From somewhere across the dark street, a car engine started.
Thomas grabbed my wrist.
“Get the children away from the windows.”
A sharp crack split the night.
The porch light exploded above us.
Sadie screamed.
Thomas shoved both of us inside.
“LOCK THE DOOR!”
Another crack.
