Someone knocked on the door again.
Three slow knocks.
Ethan stared at Claire.
Neither of them moved.
The house had suddenly become unnaturally quiet.
The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen.
The old clock on the wall ticked once.
Then twice.
Claire whispered.
“Who is it?”
Ethan raised one finger to his lips.
“Do not make a sound.”
He stepped toward the window.
The curtains were barely open.
Outside, the street was dark.
The black SUV was still parked near the curb.
Its headlights were off.
Ethan could not see the driver.
He moved closer.
Then the interior light came on.
A man's silhouette appeared behind the steering wheel.
Ethan stepped back.
Claire grabbed his arm.
“Is it him?”
“I do not know.”
Another knock.
This time, harder.
Ethan reached beneath the kitchen counter and took out the heavy flashlight he kept there.
“Stay behind me.”
Claire nodded.
He walked toward the front door.
The knocking stopped.
Ethan looked through the peephole.
Nothing.
The porch was empty.
He slowly unlocked the door.
Then he opened it.
Cold air rushed inside.
There was nobody there.
But something had been left on the floor.
A small cardboard box....