Grabbing a flashlight, Robert stepped into the cold night, the beam of light cutting through the darkness. He moved toward the garage, every crunch of gravel underfoot amplifying his unease. Doubts swirled—was he being paranoid? But the unsettling sounds pushed him forward.
Halfway there, Robert paused. His stomach tightened, not just from the chill but from guilt. Investigating felt like a betrayal of the trust he had extended. “What kind of person offers help only to second-guess it like this?” he muttered, turning back toward the house.