Chapter 23: Lights On

The step was empty when we got there.

The rain had stopped, and a wet patch on the concrete showed where Neil's shoes had been.

His SUV was gone from the drive.

Colleen idled at the curb with her window down.

"I'll wait," she said.

"Go home, Colleen."

"Mara."

"I'm not alone." I looked at Brogan beside me. "Go home and sleep. Come for pancakes."

She stared at me for a long beat, and then she put the Subaru in gear.

"If you scream, I want it to be the good kind," my sister said, and pulled away.

I walked up the path to the white house alone.

Brogan stayed on the walk, with his hands in his jacket.

I stood on the step where I had stood for twenty minutes on the worst night of my life.

The little camera over the door looked down at me with its black eye.

"Hearth," I said. "Open the door."

The lock clicked.

It opened as smoothly as breathing, and warm yellow light spilled out over my feet.

I laughed once, an ugly wet laugh.

"Come in," I said, and held out my hand.

He took it.

We stepped into the entryway, and the door swung shut behind us with a soft, expensive click.

It was dark.

I had stood in this exact dark for three years, with my shoes in my hand and the shoe cabinet blinking at me.

"Lights on," I said.

They came on, all of them, the hall and the stairs and the little lamp in the living room, soft and gold, at once.

Brogan drew a long breath.

"Say it again," he said.

"Lights on."

They flared brighter, and I turned around and put my back against the front door and pulled him in by his collar.

"Say it again," he said against my mouth, and I was laughing.

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