THE EXOTIC HOMICIDE

The sound of breaking glass echoed through the small apartment. Luke jolted awake, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun as he sat up in bed. He listened intently for any other noises, but the apartment was silent. He got up, putting on his robe and quietly made his way to the living room.

As he rounded the corner, Luke's heart dropped. His grandmother, who he had lived with for years, lay on the ground in front of the shattered window. Blood pooled around her head and her eyes were closed. Luke ran to her side, his hands shaking as he felt for a pulse. It was too late. She was gone.