She grabbed her heavy leather handbag from the entryway bench.

She reached out toward the wooden peg board where the keys usually hung.

I remembered seeing the heavy brass ring of her car keys hanging there earlier, right next to mine.

She reached her hand out, her fingers ready to grasp them.

But then she stopped.

She squinted in the dim light of the hallway.

The screen of my phone lit up again in Dan’s hand, casting a blue glow over his face.

Another message was coming through.

It was from the same unknown number, and the preview on the lock screen showed a photo of a bank deposit slip dated yesterday morning.

Juliette stared at the empty brass hook.

Her hand remained suspended in the air, her fingers hooked as if the keys were still there.

The screen of my phone in Dan’s hand went black, but the image of the deposit slip seemed burned into the dark glass.

“Where are they?” Juliette whispered.

She tapped the wooden peg board with her fingernail.

The empty hook vibrated, making a tiny clicking sound against the wood.