Twelve
Gray
I pushed through the front door first, with Ronan right on my heels.
Nothing looked out of place, but I felt it immediately—the heaviness in the air. It was too quiet; even the fridge had stopped buzzing.
A deep sense of dread settled over me, squeezing my lungs until it hurt to breathe.
“Stay here,” Ronan whispered. He edged past me and headed down the hallway that led to our bedrooms.
Ignoring his directive, I followed close behind.
My bedroom door was open—nothing amiss in there. Same with the bathroom and the small spare room Sophie used as an art studio.
At the very end of the hall, Sophie’s bedroom door was closed.
“Sophie?” I called out softly.
No response.
Ronan turned toward me, pressing a finger to his lips to shush me.
She's at work, that's all. She went
