When I finally turned onto our street, the air felt wrong. Stagnant. My parents’ driveway was empty. No silver Honda. No sign of life. A cold prickle of unease danced down my spine, but I dismissed it. Maybe they went for ice cream.

I pulled into my own driveway, intending to walk down to their house, but a flash of movement at the edge of the woods caught my eye. Our property bordered twelve acres of dense, untamed forest that bled into the old reservoir. Nothing usually came out of there but deer and shadows.