But there were no keys hanging on the dusty wall.
I frowned and checked again. Moved the old rake, and then the random junk lying on the floor. I even checked the bucket of random screws and bolts.
Still, no key.
A slow trickle of unease worked its way down my spine.
A familiar sense of foreshadowing that used to control my life.
The keys were always there. I kept them in the same spot, hung on a hook beside the box of sidewalk chalk and broken Halloween decorations. Simply because we used them so often thanks to both kids’ insane ability to lock us out all the time.
No one else even knew about them, except for my mom, and she hadn’t stepped foot in the shed since a snake “rattled” at her once a few summers ago.
I stood there in the still silence for a second too long, chewing my bottom lip and listening to the wind.
The yard feltoff.
Like it had been looked at.
Like someone had been there.
But that was ridiculous. Right?
Maybe one of the kids moved them. Maybe I grabbed them and forgot to hang them back up last time. Maybe I was just exhausted from too many shifts, too many stolen kisses in the dark, too many feelings I didn’t know how to process yet.
Still, I double-checked the gate on the way back to the front yard, closing it firmly behind me. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I called my mom.
“Hey,” I said when she picked up. “Any chance I can drop the gremlins off a little early?”
“Of course,” she replied, “Hot date?”
I scoffed. “Yeah sure. Life’s just hectic. You know.”
I didn’t mention the keys. Or the gate. Or the way my stomach hadn’t quite unclenched since I walked out of the shed.
Because what was I even going to say?
That I got spooked by a missing key?
That I felt like someone was watching me?
No, I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t tell her that. Because then she’d zero in on the fear behind those statements.
The fear that I thought I buried years ago.
No, I’d just pretend that the chill tingling up my spine was nothing.
I wasn’t that kind of woman, anyway. I was a bartender, a single mom, a black-cat energy baddie who didn’t scare easily anymore.
Still, I glanced over my shoulder once before I left, and Isworethe hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
I couldn’t focus.
Not on the drinks I was pouring, not on the small talk from my regulars, not even when Coach Rick made some crude joke about playingjust the tipwith the puck.
I laughed and shook my head, because that was what I did.
But it didn’t reach my eyes.
