I looked down at the map on my phone to confirm I had reached the right address. This was definitely where Rachel lived, but all that stood in front of me was a crumbling building in a rough neighborhood.
I stepped over dried grass and a broken beer bottle to get to the front door, where a large brass knocker hung lopsided on the door. There were tiny claw marks under the handle, like a pet cat had been trying to get inside.
I knocked, but there was no answer for several moments. I thought I saw a light flicker on briefly through the windows, but it died as soon as I noticed it. “Rachel?” I said, knocking again. “I’m looking for Rachel, is she home?”
No answer.
“I just want to talk, I promise I won’t be long.”
The door creaked, opening slightly. A dozen chains kept
