It was a soft, dragging noise.

We both went completely still.

Adrian reached into his coat pocket again, his hand gripping something heavy.

I stepped back into the shadows near the broken drying rack.

The sound came again, louder and closer this time.

It was the sound of leather heels stumbling on the wooden steps.

Then we heard a faint, choked sob.

It was a woman’s voice, muffled and wet with tears.

Adrian caught my eye and gestured for me to stay behind him.

He positioned himself flat against the wall next to the open door.

The footsteps stopped on the landing just outside the third floor.

A shadow fell across the yellow light spilling into the hallway.

Through the gap in the door, I saw a flash of pale pink wool.

It was a designer coat I recognized instantly.

The person outside gasped, a sharp, ragged intake of breath.

She stepped through the doorway and into the light.

It was Sienna.

Her expensive mascara was smudged down her cheeks in dark, messy streaks.

Her blonde hair was damp from the fog and clung to her face.