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“Trying to find out if anyone is inside.” Ari rapped on it again.
“If Ryan’s in there, he’ll hear you too.”
“We can take him.” She knocked again. Waited. Moved to the next side of the building. Knocked and waited.
Next to her, Rita twisted the doorknob.
“We already tried that,” Damon said. “There’s no way in.”
“There’s always a way.”
Ariana continued around the rest of the building until she ended up where she started. If anyone was inside, they either didn’t want to be found or they couldn’t get themselves to a wall to respond to her efforts.
She needed to get inside one way or another. The windows seemed like the easiest option. Depending on how strong the glass was, her knife’s handle or even her flashlight might break it with enough force.
Ari pressed her palm on the cold glass.
It jiggled.
She moved her hand around.
The glass wiggled.
“Did you find something?” Damon asked.
“I’m not sure.” Ari pressed her fingertips underneath the frame. Pushed upward.
The window rose an inch, then another.
“It was unlocked the whole time?” he said.
She strained to lift it higher. It barely budged.
Damon helped. It moved up another few inches. A little more.
Just enough space for her to squeeze through.
“Lift me up.”
“Do you want to go in alone?”
“You can follow me, but I’m heading inside.”
“Let’s open it a little more, then I can fit.”
“I’m not waiting.” She reached inside and pulled herself up.
Damon wrapped his arms around her and helped her the rest of the way.
Once her feet were on the floor, she turned on her flashlight. Dusty cobwebs occupied every corner. Junk was piled everywhere. Items that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. A disco ball and a record player appeared to be the newest items in the room.
Ariana poked around to make sure nobody was hiding underneath. She half-expected to find a skeleton. But the room appeared to be nothing other than storage.
Behind her, the window rattled as Damon struggled to get it up.
“Some help?” he said.
“Hold on.” She stepped through the doorway. The next room was slightly larger. It had almost no clutter, only a few piles of clothes against one wall. There was a flower-printed couch with a mismatched love seat perpendicular to it. A low rectangular coffee table full of ashtrays and long-empty plates stood in front of them. A fireplace — that looked like it would crumble if she so much as sneezed — was across from the couch.
