“Thank you, Robert,” I said, walking him to the door.

The night air was freezing as I opened the front door.

The fog had grown thicker, a wall of white mist that swallowed the streetlights completely.

“Lock the door behind me,” Robert said, stepping out onto the porch.

“I will.”

I watched him walk down the steps, his figure disappearing into the fog within seconds.

The sound of his car engine starting and driving away was muffled by the heavy damp air.

I locked the deadbolt, threw the security latch, and leaned my back against the heavy wood of the door.

The house was completely still.

I walked back into the kitchen, looking at the empty coffee mugs on the table.

The silence felt fragile, like thin ice.

I took the mugs to the sink and washed them, focusing on the warmth of the water on my cold hands.

I dried them and put them away in the cupboard.

My mind kept returning to the photo of Lily and Ethan.

Daniel had been so close.

Or he had paid someone to be.