The small brass key sat right beside the letter on my kitchen table.

I reached out to pick it up, but my hand stopped in midair.

Driving out to an isolated storage facility in the middle of the night by myself felt utterly reckless, yet calling Austin to come with me felt even worse.

I sat quietly at the table for several minutes, listening to the peaceful sounds of my home.

Upstairs, my daughters were fast asleep.

Daisy’s bedroom door was open a crack, casting a warm beam of light across the hallway floor, just as I had left it when I checked on her earlier.