Chapter 8

Nicki"s eyes bolted open, the muggy Florida air clinging to her skin despite the air conditioning running on high. She could hear the ceiling fan struggling to cool the room as she shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.

Beside her, Adam"s snores grew louder and more obnoxious by the minute. She turned toward him, the moonlight casting silver shadows on his face, and couldn"t help but glare at his peaceful obliviousness. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to drown out the sound of his snoring.

Hunger gnawed at her belly. She slid from the bed with a soft huff, careful not to wake him. Bare feet padded across the cool tile as she descended the stairs, craving a simple midnight snack—something, anything to help her sleep.

As Nicki stepped into the kitchen, her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and she reached for the switch. The sudden brightness made her squint, but it also revealed a familiar scene. She spotted a tray of freshly baked cookies on the counter, and a bottle of milk in the fridge caught her attention. Without hesitation, she poured herself a glass and indulged in a cookie, savoring each crumb that fell onto her fingers.

Beyond the window, palm trees swayed in the salty ocean air, their rustling leaves a comforting sound. But Sarah couldn"t focus on their calming rhythm. The image of last night"s events played over and over in her mind, each detail seared into her memory. She couldn"t shake the feeling of disbelief as she thought about their neighbor, Sarah, being arrested for murder. It didn"t make sense—sure, their marriage and separation had been messy, but could it have really led to such a heinous act? Killing the man she had once loved and had a child with?

"Victoria," she whispered, the name leaving a bitter taste. Poor kid. She'd been shipped off to an aging grandmother when she needed parents the most. It seemed unbelievable. Yes, Nicki knew that Sarah was a drunk. She had come to the house more than once after the split and yelled at him from outside the house, and once, they had to call the cops on her. It was Adam who wanted to do it, not Nicki. But she knew now it had been the right thing to do. Sarah needed to stop the drinking, and Nicki thought that she had. It had been months with no episodes, and when she met her at Publix one day, she was completely sober and told her she was in AA now and had been sober for three months.

So, what happened?

Nicki went outside. She sat on her porch swing, enjoying the warm breeze and the sounds of crickets chirping, when a loud rustling sound made her jump. She frantically looked toward her front door, scanning for any signs of movement. Her heart pounded in her chest as she imagined what could be causing the noise—was it a pesky raccoon or something more dangerous like a gator? She couldn"t help but think of the videos she had seen online of wild animals invading people"s homes in the middle of the night.

There it was again. That unmistakable sound of something meddling where it shouldn"t.

"Okay, Nicki. Just a raccoon," she muttered to herself.

She walked inside and grabbed a pot and pan, the tools of suburban defense. Ready to make a racket, to send whatever critter scurrying, she crept to the door. Hand trembling, she reached for the knob, braced for chaos.

But there was no wild animal in the quiet shadow of the front porch. Instead, there was an envelope. Her name was etched on the front in sharp, deliberate letters. No raccoon wrote that.

She snatched the envelope and turned back inside, every nerve on edge.