Evan waited in the darkened hallway, nudging the back door just enough to make the latch rattle. The metallic clink carried through the quiet house. He grinned to himself, already picturing Lara’s startled jump and the inevitable laughter afterward. It was meant to be harmless—just a silly scare.
A sharp gasp answered him, followed by a quick, heavy thud that didn’t sound like playful shock at all. His smile vanished. He stepped into the living room, expecting her to emerge from behind the couch or doorway. Instead, the room sat perfectly still. The lamp glowed. Her half-finished mug of tea waited. But Lara was gone.
“Lara?” he called, voice tightening. The front door was locked. The back door remained latched. Nothing looked disturbed—except her phone on the counter, screen glowing with the half-dialed emergency number she’d tried to call. The sight made his stomach drop. Whatever she’d heard, she hadn’t thought it was a joke. She had panicked—and fled.