His eyes flick down to the toy in my hands. His jaw clenches. “Inside?”
I nod. “She had it when I left Hopper’s.”
Four people and Mal begin to check the perimeter. The guy who’s in charge of my security stays next to me. They come back and there’s nothing outside. Everything is clear. Then we go inside. The door is locked. Still locked. Maybe nobody entered, but they want to take precautions before I stay inside.
I swallow hard as Mal unlocks the door, pushing it open carefully. The air inside is still, but something about it feels off. We step inside, and my stomach twists. It looks normal. The furniture, the pictures on the wall, the blanket draped over the couch.
Mal walks ahead of me, his steps slow, calculated. He clears the living room first, then the kitchen. The hallway.
Nothing.
We check the rest of the house together, but nothing is missing. Nothing is taken. But when we get to my bedroom, my breath catches. The closet door is slightly ajar. I know for a fact that I shut it before I left.
I glance at Mal, my grip tightening on the stuffed pony. “Someone was in here.”
He moves forward, pushing the closet door open with the tip of his boot.
Nothing.
But that doesn’t mean they weren’t here.
That doesn’t mean they didn’t watch.
Mal doesn’t let me stay in the house.
After we’ve gone through everything, after the officers have dusted for prints—though we both know they won’t find anything—he drives me to Hopper’s, saying he’ll figure out the rest later. My grandmother will stay with her friend. He’ll make sure she’s safe. Tomorrow they’ll have a security system installed in her house. This is the last time he listens to an old lady when he’s trying to do his fucking job—his words.
I don’t argue.
Because as much as I don’t want to need help, as much as I don’t want to rely on anyone . . .
I don’t want to be alone.
I clutch Lala tighter in my hands, my stomach twisting with a realization I don’t want to say out loud.
Whoever did this . . .
They weren’t here for me, but for Maddie. That terrifies me more than anything else.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nysa
The ride to Hopper’s house is too quiet despite the low murmur of Malerick’s voice as he speaks into his earpiece.
He’s tense, his fingers gripping the steering wheel too tightly, his jaw tight with the same frustration that’s been gnawing at all of us. How did they get in Maddie’s room? I was there.
“We’re still working through possibilities,” he mutters, glancing at the security specialist in the passenger seat. “But it doesn’t add up. No forced entry. No tampering. Hopper’s security system is state-of-the-art, and none of the cameras caught movement.”
The man nods, tapping at his tablet. “We’re going through every frame of footage, running diagnostics to see if the system was remotely accessed, but from what we can tell—there was no breach. Gil is losing his shit, because no one but one person has ever been able to hack him—and that man works for him. If they indeed hacked the system . . . we’re fucked.”
A chill runs down my spine.
The agents were there. The security was in place. The system should have detected movement, entry, anything. If it didn’t, these people are ghosts. Nothing will stop them.
None of it makes sense.
I press my fingers against my temple, trying to stop the pounding headache forming behind my eyes. “So what? They just walked in without your men seeing them, without the cameras detecting them?”
