The house looked lived-in but somehow hollow, like a place where the clocks had stopped. She hesitated for a long moment before knocking. No answer. She knocked again. Harder. Still nothing. She stepped back and peered toward the front window, searching for movement, shadows, any proof the family was inside.
But the house stared back at her with a stillness that made her stomach twist. Eventually, she forced herself to leave. The walk home felt longer. The sky darker. The town quieter. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had missed something, something obvious, something right in front of her.