A taxi pulled up to the front gate of a grand estate. The engine hummed softly as a tired figure stepped out—Lydia, her posture weary from the long day behind her. She made her way to the gate, punching in the code with slow fingers. The gate clicked open, and she stepped inside, her steps sluggish and dragging. Her heels dug mercilessly into her ankles with every step until she could no longer stand it. She slipped them off, sighing in relief as her feet touched the cool stone pathway.
Reaching the front door, she opened it and stepped into darkness. The house was quiet—too quiet. She paused, glancing around the shadowy interior and murmured to herself, “Maybe Scott’s not home yet.”
She made her way to the kitchen without bothering to switch on the lights. The familiarity of the space guided her as she opened the fridge, grabbed a cold bottle of water, and took a long, satisfying gulp.
But just as the cool liquid slid down her throat, a deep voice cut through the silence.