T
ess was alone in the house for the first time. Cap said he’d be gone for a few hours and to make herself at home, but as she gazed around the living room, she couldn’t put herself at ease. Something felt off. It was clean and organized, but no photographs adorned the walls or shelves. No knick-knacks or clutter or souvenirs from vacations or trips. It seemed stripped of personality, and she wondered what kind of person could live in a house like that. It was as if the rooms were preserved, like a museum exhibit—something to be observed rather than lived in.
She found herself wandering from one room to the next, not knowing what to do with herself. She didn’t belong in this house or in this town, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go or anyone to turn to. She couldn’t go back home. N
