My sister called me at midnight and whispered, “Turn off every light. Go to the attic. Don’t tell your husband.” I thought she was losing her mind — until I looked through the floorboards
Mara worked for the FBI. She never called this late unless someone had died or something terrible was about to happen.
I answered in a whisper. “Mara?”
Her voice was tense. “Listen carefully. Turn everything off. Your phone, the lights, everything. Go to the attic, lock the door, and don’t tell Caleb.”
A chill ran through me. “What?”
“Now, Elise.”
I glanced at my husband. He lay facing away, breathing slow and steady.
“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.
Mara’s voice snapped into a shout. “Just do it!”
I moved before I could question it.
I slipped out of bed, grabbed my phone charger without thinking, and crept into the hallway. Behind me, Caleb shifted.
“Elise?” he murmured.
I froze.
“I’m getting water,” I said.
He didn’t respond.
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