Julia stood there, staring at the half-turned latch, the disturbed equipment, the too-neat mess of it. Her throat tightened. She didn’t know what scared her more—the idea that someone had broken in, or the worse idea that someone had been here more than once.
The first time she mentioned it, Marcus barely looked up from the TV. “You probably did it without thinking,” he said. “I didn’t,” Julie replied, and she heard the tightness in her own voice. Marcus sighed like she was adding a problem to a day that already had too many. “Julie, come on. Nothing’s happening.”