The Locked Room at the Top of the Stairs
Chapter 3 — The Morning After
A little before six I gave up on sleep and went upstairs, meaning to wake Julian so we could catch a few of my relatives before they drove home.
The bedroom door was ajar.
I pushed it open, and I stopped in the doorway, because the room was wrong in a way it took my mind a moment to name.
Julian was lying on his back, rigid, on the far side of the bed.
And Victoria was in the bed too — on top of the covers, still in her clothes from the night before, propped against the headboard with her hands folded on her stomach, wide awake, watching the door.