Selena’s POV
“s**t,” I muttered, kicking the door again Not hard enough to break it just enough to feel something. “Open up, It’s Selena.”
It was locked.
The hell?
I tried the handle again. Nothing. Locked
I knew something was off the second I stepped on the porch.
Katarina’s front door was locked. Not fake-locked. Actually locked. No crowbar marks. No busted handle. No bloody handprints. Just… normal.
Last time I was here, the door had been wide open, gaping, like the house was screaming. The house was trashed. Her mom was drooling nonsense on the couch.
Now?
It looked like nothing happened here. Nothing.
Not even a cough from her mom. Not the usual TV blaring or weird gibberish about fires.
I stepped back, hands on my hips, scanning the little porch. I circled the house, chec
