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But I should.
I should do something.
I should go over there.
I should call the police.
I should scream.
I should get someone.
My phone is inside.
My phone is inside.
My phone is inside.
If I go over there, I’ll die.
The light flicks off, bathing the house in darkness, and I shake my head free of the wild and chaotic thoughts. I turn and grab for the door, pulling it open and darting inside, nearly colliding with Logan, who was walking into the living room with a full glass of some dark liquid I suspect is red wine.
“Whoa, slow down. Where’s the fire?” he asks, lifting his glass to keep from spilling it.
I zip past him, up the stairs, and toward my room.
“Lena!” I hear him shouting. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I cry, searching for my phone. I find it where I left it on the nightstand and lift it with shaking hands. Of course, my FaceID doesn’t work in the dim light, and I can’t seem to get my fingers to cooperate.
“What’s wrong?” That’s Mara.
I turn to find everyone in my doorway staring at me with terrified expressions.
“I, um, I…” Finally my phone unlocks, and I dial the numbers—911. “Lock the doors! Now!” I order them.
“What?” Austin asks.
“Why?” Memphis asks, walking toward me.
Mara approaches me, too, with her hand held out. “What’s going on, babe? What happened?”
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a woman’s voice asks in my ear.
Every jaw in the room goes slack as the next words leave my mouth. “I need help. My neighbor just killed his wife.”
CHAPTERNINE
Despite the urgency of the situation, it takes just under an hour for the police and ambulance to arrive on our street.
“Just three cop cars?” Logan asks.
“Maybe that’s all they have,” says Mara. “Small town.”
“It’s a murder,” Austin points out. “They should be calling in the state police. The FBI. Something.” He pauses, his eyes widening. “Do you think they’re going to want to talk to us?”
“I don’t think they call in the FBI for murder,” Memphis says skeptically. “And yeah, probably. You might want to go…freshen up.”
Nodding, Austin darts upstairs. With him gone, we watch from the side window in the foyer as the officers step from their cars and approach the dark house. They knock several times, and then, when there’s no answer, they kick in the front door all too easily.
