She Left Me a Weapon
The line went dead.
I stood in the middle of the half-empty living room while the silence rushed back in. Lightning forked over the lake, and the thunder came a few seconds later and rattled the floorboards under my bare feet.
Ten miles, on that road, in the dark. Less than twenty minutes.
If you lock that door, I will smash the glass.
I looked at the bay windows overlooking the porch. I was alone, miles from anyone, with a storm cutting the world off at the knees, and my family was coming to hunt me down.
Panic is a useless emotion.