Page 37 of Weight of Guilt

“Just until morning.” Wren looked between her sisters. “We’ve waited this long already. One night isn’t going to undo anything. I want to make the right decisions.”

Nora exhaled, some of the tension easing out of her shoulders. “Fine. Tomorrow. That’s when we can make a plan.”

“Tomorrow.” Wren leaned toward Nora. “Are you okay with Christian staying here tonight? I know it’s a lot, having him in the house.”

“He’s my brother.” Nora said the words simply as if the question answered itself. “Of course, he’s staying here.”

“I’m going to stay here too,” Marlowe added. “I don’t feel right leaving Nora alone with all of this.”

Something in Wren’s chest loosened at that. “Okay. Good.”

She herded Mason off the couch and toward the door. Bo followed behind them.

“Text me if anything happens,” she said. “Anything at all.”

“We will.” Nora walked her to the door. “Get some sleep, Wren.”

Tomorrow, they’d have clearer heads. Tomorrow, they’d know what to do.

At least, that was what she hoped.

Wren slipped her key into the deadbolt, bracing herself for the resistance that was always there. She really needed to have someone look at her lock, but it was far down on her to-do list right now.

However, the resistance didn’t come. The key turned clean, no catch, nothing to fight against.

It was already unlocked, she realized.

She went still with her hand on the knob.

She always locked the deadbolt. Always.

With everything that had happened today, had she forgotten? She supposed it was a possibility.

Mason didn’t notice her unease. He ducked past her legs the second the door gave, Bo at his heels. Both of them were already halfway to the hall before she’d even stepped inside.

“Night, Mom,” Mason called over his shoulder, his gear bag forgotten by the door.

“Night, Bug. Don’t forget to take a shower before you go to bed. You’re sweaty from practice.”

“I will. I love you!”

“Love you too!”

Wren stood in the doorway a moment longer, running the day back through her head.

She hadn’t forgotten the lock. She felt sure of it.

By the time she made it to the kitchen, Bo had abandoned Mason and was back at her side. He sniffed at the base of the back door before he went still, a low sound building in his chest that wasn’t quite a growl.

Alarm rang through her.

“Hey.” She crouched beside him. “What is it, boy?”

His nose continued working the air near the doorframe, his ears pinned back.

Did the dog smell something she couldn’t? Maybe an unwelcome visitor who’d been in and out while she was gone?

Or . . . what if this person hadn’t left?