The night sky had long since swallowed the sun, leaving a thick darkness lit only by the yellow glow of street lamps. A gust of night wind blew through the gaps in the trees, swaying the brittle branches and casting faint shadows on the cobblestone path.
In the distance, the heavy sound of Wade's footsteps could be heard faintly, melding with the soft crunch of gravel shifting beneath his shoes. He walked away from the car parked at the edge of the yard, then climbed the stairs.
Wade opened the door to the house, and silence immediately enveloped him, like an old friend waiting in silence. There were no other footsteps, no laughter, no clinking of plates or cups like he had heard in the Montague house only hours before. Here there was only the sound of his own breathing bouncing off the
