I moved quietly to the bedroom doorway and into the hall, every board suddenly louder than thunder under my bare feet. The moonlight through the stairwell window cast pale bars across the wall. I went down two steps and froze when I saw a flashlight beam move across the front hall below.
Someone was inside.
There are moments when fear simplifies you. All the complexities of family, grief, legality, inheritance—gone. My mind became a series of very fast practical instructions. Exit path. Weapon. Phone. Window. Voice.
