What had happened in Claire’s final hours?

I looked down at my hands.

They were trembling.

I had to get out of the house before they returned.

I crept down the stairs, keeping my weight on the outer edges of the steps to avoid creaking.

The foyer was empty.

The scent of wet wool and expensive cologne lingered in the air.

I reached the front door and slipped outside into the cold rain.

The wind bit through my thin uniform.

I ran to my old sedan parked near the side gate.

I got inside, locked the doors, and sat in the dark.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a text from an unknown number.

*Meet me at the diner on Route 41. Now.*

It had to be Ethan.

I started the engine and drove out of the estate.

The rain poured down, making the road ahead nearly invisible.

The diner was a small, neon-lit place, mostly empty at this hour.

I parked in the rear and walked inside.

Ethan was sitting in a booth in the far corner, wearing a dark jacket.