Chapter 2

"Did the breaker trip?" 

Aunt Luna muttered to herself, staring at the dead ceiling fan.

She set me right down on the sofa and leaned over the coffee table to grab her phone. She unlocked the screen, swiping straight to the HandyPro app. 

She was going to call him back. In these old suburban neighborhoods, cracked wiring and tripped breakers were common. To her, this was just an innocent accident. 

To me, it was a death sentence.

I threw my entire body forward. My head slammed hard against her forearm, and the phone flew out of her hand, skittering across the living room rug.

"Stella! Sweetie, what are you doing?"

I shook my head so hard my neck hurt. "Don't call him! Do not call him back!"

Luna frowned, trying to soothe me. "Baby, it’s just the old house wiring. The central A/C trips the breaker all the time. I just need to ask the tech to take a look."

"No!" I squeezed her hands tight, my voice breaking. "He didn’t leave! He’s right outside. He did this, Auntie! He cut the power on purpose!"

Luna froze. She opened her mouth to reason with me.

I knew what she was going to say. The HOA in this area was notoriously cheap. The main electrical panels for our block were outside in the alley, and the lockbox had been broken for over six months. Anyone could just walk up and pull the main switch. 

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang out, sharp and jarring in the dead-silent house.

"Ma'am?" 

Jake Dalton’s voice drifted right through the heavy front door. 

"Is everything okay in there? Did you just try to reach me? Looks like your power went out right as I was leaving. Good thing I was still out by my truck. Let me come inside and take a look for you."

Luna stared at her phone lying face-down on the rug. Her hand hovered in mid-air, trembling.

She hadn't dialed his number. She hadn't pressed a single button. 

All the color drained from her face.

Jake kept talking from the porch. His tone was smooth, perfectly polite, and dripping with fake professional concern. 

"Ma'am, these old wires are a real hazard," he called out, his voice a little louder now. "Especially when the central air blows a fuse. Sometimes it sparks. Can cause a fire in the walls. Besides, you got a little girl in there, right? It's close to a hundred degrees today. Heatstroke is no joke for a kid."

He sounded like the perfect, responsible handyman. 

But I knew the truth. I had read the police reports. I knew exactly what Jake Dalton was.

I slapped both my hands over Aunt Luna's mouth. My palms were too small to cover it completely, but the message was clear. I stared wide-eyed into her terrified gaze. 

Don't make a sound.

Her instincts finally kicked in. She scooped me up tight against her chest and took three slow, agonizingly quiet steps backward into the hallway. 

The house was terrifyingly silent. Every breath we took sounded too loud. 

"Ma'am?" Jake’s voice dropped. "You home?"

Silence.

Then came the noise.

Scrape. Click. Scrape.

Metal grinding slowly against metal inside the doorknob. He wasn't knocking anymore. He was picking the lock.

Luna didn't scream. I watched the soft, gentle aunt I knew transform. Pure, raw survival instinct took over. She dropped me gently behind the heavy living room sofa.

"Stay down," she mouthed completely silently.

She rushed to the front door on her tiptoes. She grabbed the deadbolt knob and slammed it shut with a small clack. She hooked the metal security chain into place. 

Then she turned to the heavy, solid oak shoe cabinet we kept in the entryway. She threw her entire body weight against it, digging the soles of her feet into the floorboards, and shoved the massive piece of furniture flush against the door. 

The lock-picking stopped instantly.

A low, dry chuckle bled through the wood. It made my skin crawl. 

"Ma'am, there's no need to lock me out like that," Jake said. His voice was light, almost conversational now. "I'm a licensed tech with HandyPro. Verified and everything. How am I supposed to fix your power if you won't even let me in?"

Luna pressed her back hard against the oak cabinet. Her hands were shaking violently, but when she spoke, her voice was loud and sharp like shattered glass. 

"I am not fixing the A/C. I told you I will pay your service fee. Leave my property right now."

Jake let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. 

"You're really wasting my time here, lady," he complained. "I drove all the way across town for this ticket. Gas, labor—you know, if you call support and complain, I lose my whole day's pay. I’m just trying to do my job."

"I will not report you," Luna shot back immediately. "I am sending the payment through the app right now. Do not come back."

Silence hung thick on the porch. 

For a full minute, neither of them moved. I crouched behind the sofa, my tiny fists clenched so hard my fingernails dug deep into my palms. I was sweating through my shirt, but I didn't dare blink. 

Finally, the heavy thump of work boots hit the concrete. 

Thud. Thud.

He was slowly, casually walking down the front steps. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded into the suffocating neighborhood heat.