The Visit

Maya's POV

I stared at the closet for a long second, waiting for my brain to catch up.

It was gone.

The gun was gone.

I blinked. Hard. Then opened the drawer beneath it. Pulled out the shoebox I’d used as a fake hiding place. Empty too. My heart started doing backflips.

No. No no no. I didn’t imagine it. I put it right there, wrapped in a black shirt, under the old notebooks I don’t even read.

“Theresa?” I called, my voice a bit too tight.

“Yeah?” she answered from downstairs.

I ran a hand through my damp hair, trying not to sound completely unhinged.

“Did you touch anything in my closet?”

“Your closet?” she echoed. “No? Why would I?”

I paused. “Just asking. I thought I left something there but I can’t find it.”

She hesitated, then said, “Well, your mom cleaned a little while we were out, didn’t she?”

Oh God.

Mom.

My stomach sank. I slammed the closet shut and backed away from it like it was cursed.

If my mom saw the gun, hell, even touched it, she’d have questions. Military questions