Chapter Twenty-Two
The house was empty.
Marina stepped across the old floorboards, her hand reaching under her coat for her pistol. ‘Hello?’
No response.
Panic clawed into her chest. The dining table was empty, but the scent of a recent home-cooked meal lingered. She walked through to the kitchen. The light was on, and dishes were drying in the sink.
‘Hello?’
Fearing the worst, she pressed on into the living room.
Her father was sitting on the sofa, reading, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. Her mother sat beside him, napping soundly in front of the fireplace—at least until Marina walked in.
‘Oh, I was just … resting my eyes.’ Her mother sat upright.
Her father shook his head. ‘She was snoring again.’
Marina lowered her hand from her coat. Her parents were fine, as alwa
