As the evening winds down, we all gather in the TV room. The kids play in the hallway while we hang out—eating, chatting, just being. Moments like this are rare with how busy life always is. It’s nice to just be.
“I wonder if one of the last two pack members is the killer?” Fiona muses, leaning into the couch cushions.
I nod slowly. “Ever watched a true crime doc? Serial killers always get involved in the case somehow. Either he’s one of the two left or he’s tied into this mess, one way or another.”
Matt shudders. “Ugh. The idea that we might know him creeps me the hell out.”
We all cringe. It’s terrifying to think the killer could be someone who’s eaten at our table.
“Did the two who aren’t back yet give any excuse for not being available?” Drake asks around a mouthful of spaghetti.
