A faint knock on the front door echoed in the quiet apartment, so soft that Lucielle wondered if she had imagined it.
She opened the front door of her apartment, clad solely in Floyd's long-sleeved dress shirt, assuming that her man had arrived early. Usually, when he returned later in the day, he would bring take-out. Perhaps his hands were full, and he couldn't knock properly?
No one was visible in the hallway, the absence prompting her to survey her surroundings curiously.
Whoever it was must have known the elevator's access code, a detail only her closest friends and staff were privy to. Yet, as she peered out into the hallway, it was empty.
"Floyd?" Lucielle called out, wondering if he was trying to spook her. He was aware of her fondness for horror films.
She almost stepped into
