I SHOULD’VE CRASHED. And burned. Possibly even died. If I judged by the number of wonky swerves I’d made and wobbly corners I’d taken on the way home.
The fact the house stood quiet told me the others had already left for work. They’d probably given up on me. Figured if I couldn’t be bothered to keep them updated, why should they be showing concern in return? I couldn’t help but wonder how many shots I had before they’d wash their hands of me altogether.
Only one vehicle was missing from the driveway, though, so just to check, I called out as I entered the house.
Nothing but the slight ring of an echo bounced back at me, the kind that only came from an unclaimed space.
Wrapping an arm around my hairline to narrow my skewed vision some, I cut through the kitchen, into the hallway, and b
