Davidsons

The house was quiet than usual. The air cooler wasn't running the porch light was turned on. The door to the barn was half open. The house was quieter as if touched by cold fingertips, frozen in time. The curtains didn't wind up the sun didn't shine in her room. Isobel stood in the driveway, her eyes adjusting to something new and odd. She walked up to the porch and jammed her keys in, opening the door. The grieving silence greeted her with the smell of uncooked breakfast.

Every light switched off, a corner around the couch dimly lit. The latch on the windows still down, her eyes drifted towards the counter.

Breath caught in her throat, a shudder raised from her toes to her head. She gripped the edge of the counter as her eyes examined each and every paper laid out on the counter.