That morning Sarah awoke to the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the downstairs of the house. She could tell from the heaviness of the sound that it had to have been the thick front door with the big brass knocker in the shape of a demon’s head. Next came the sound of footsteps clomping across the bare wooden floor, followed by the sound of voices speaking in hushed tones.
Even though she could barely hear them through the door of her bedroom, something about the cadence of the voices and their hurried, whispered intensity made her sit up, curious to know what had disturbed the tranquil normalcy of the morning household. Sliding her legs from beneath the covers, she stood and went to the door where she listened carefully for the sound of footsteps in the upstairs.
Her body felt lig
