Finn
Gray light streamed through the windows when I opened my eyes. The familiar scent of the cottage calmed me instantly. Then, I remembered why I was there and I got up quickly.
My pillow was on the floor, the blanket practically in knots. The couch cushions were all askew. I sighed and straightened everything up, folding the blanket and tossing it on the pillow. It wasn't the first restless night I passed.
I checked around the first floor and made sure all the doors and windows were still locked. As I went, I found a book left open on the coffee table. It was 'The Count of Monte Cristo' in its original French. Someone had been reading it and my money was on the woman upstairs.
Gardening sheers with fresh dirt sat on the kitchen counter, along with a pair of well-used garden gloves.