Caleb took a step toward the shadowed corner.
My pulse thundered so loud I was certain he could hear it from where he stood.
"Caleb," Victoria said quickly, her voice sharpening with something close to genuine irritation. "There's a draft coming through the window behind those cabinets. It's been rattling all evening. You're imagining shadows where there's nothing but a loose frame."
He paused, one hand resting against the edge of the desk, his eyes still fixed on the corner where we crouched.
"A draft," he repeated slowly.
"Unless you'd like to inspect the window yourself," Victoria said, forcing a note of boredom into her tone, "in which case, be my guest. I'll be here filing rotations either way."
The silence stretched, unbearable, every second an eternity, and then Caleb exhaled,
