El CotilloDawn brought fresh fear.
I threw open both doors to let in all the light there was to be had. Candlelight flickered in the moving air. The light inside remained dim, the dining room entrance shielded by the scaffolding. Steeling myself, I took a candle to the solitary window and placed it on the curved seat. An examination of the window shutters revealed what I already suspected. The bolts were drawn shut and there was no sign of a forced entry. Whoever had entered was clever, skilled, an expert. They had managed with considerable stealth to slide the bolts open, enter my bedroom, close the bolts, throw open the door bolts and exit through the dining room door all without waking me and for no other reason than to scare me out of my wits.
Cejas? Had to be. No one else had a moti
