Julie’s stomach tightened. “Upstairs?” Mrs. Kline nodded quickly, as if she wanted to get it out and be done. “Near that side window—the one that opens wide. Just a shadow moving past, then the curtain shifted. Could’ve been nothing. Could’ve been light. I just thought… Marcus can’t go up there, so you’d want to know.”
Julie kept her face steady, but her pulse started to climb. That was the room. The spare room with the training gear. The window she’d found latched wrong in the middle of the night. She forced a smile and said, “It was probably nothing,” because that’s what you said when the alternative made your throat close.