Then the man sighed, like someone inconvenienced, and shut the door briefly to remove the chain. When it opened again, Avery stepped inside.
The air felt… still.
Not quiet in a peaceful way—quiet in a held-breath kind of way.
“Anyone else home?” Avery asked casually, already scanning.
“My daughter,” the man replied. “She’s upstairs. Probably napping.”
Avery nodded, as if that made sense.
It didn’t.
“Mind if I speak with her?”
The man’s jaw tightened, just for a fraction of a second. “She’s not feeling well.”
“I’ll be quick.”
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