Sitting upright, Peter’s first thought was Mrs. Henderson’s warning. “She’s opened the door for someone,” he muttered, his chest tightening. Adrenaline surged as he slipped quietly out of bed, his footsteps cautious on the wooden floor. He strained to hear any additional sounds, dread curling in his stomach.
Peter tiptoed toward the window that faced the garage, carefully pulling back the curtain. His hands trembled as he scanned the area, expecting to see an intruder slipping inside. Instead, he spotted movement near the driveway—Natalie, carrying a bag, her figure faintly illuminated by the streetlights.