It was from an unknown sender.

*We know you have the secondary key, Eleanor.*

I took a slow step backward, my heel pressing against the base of the kitchen cabinets.

My hand closed around the cold handle of the heavy kitchen knife I had left on the drying rack.

The knife felt heavy and awkward in my grip.

My heart was beating so hard I was certain he could hear it in the silence.

The shadow moved closer, his boots making a soft, scraping sound on the floor.

He didn’t turn on a flashlight.

He knew the layout of the room.

The white light from my phone screen faded, leaving us in total darkness again.

I pressed my back against the wall, holding the knife close to my chest.

“Eleanor,” a quiet voice whispered from the dark.

It wasn’t Merritt.

“Eleanor,” a quiet voice whispered from the dark. It wasn’t Merritt.

It was Cole.

The rasp of his breathing was familiar, a sound I had slept next to for six years of marriage.

“I know you have the drive,” he said, stepping fully into the kitchen.