The alarm was off. Next to the back door was an umbrella stand. Simona didn’t use flimsy, drug store umbrellas. These were heavy and expensive, so I grabbed one in case I ran into a burglar. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t do much damage, but there was nothing else available.
My heart pounded as I crept through the kitchen. Every step I took caused the floor to creak, and I cursed under my breath that she lived in an old house. I toed off my sneakers and scooted them under the kitchen table to minimize the noise. As I tiptoed through the downstairs, I noticed two lamps were on and the front door was locked. Finding no one, I realized If someone was here; they had to be upstairs. s**t, if it was an intruder I’d have a hell of a time escaping, but I had to check it out.
The hardwood steps gr
