The sky looks wrong. That’s the first thing I notice as I step out of the car. The strange, in-between gray hue of it makes everything feel suspended, like something is about to go wrong. It doesn’t help that my mind is in overdrive and my heart won’t stop pounding as the cab I hastily ordered finally comes to a stop. I slam the car door harder than I mean to and glance down at my phone again, half-expecting Jake to text and say “never mind.” But it never comes. So, I swallow my nerves and turn toward the house before me. The bungalow is the smallest building on the street, and although it’s not exactly rundown, it looks worn in a way that shows it’s lacking serious maintenance. The porch light flickers faintly, and one of the steps creaks under my weight as I climb up. There’s a bike tipped over on the side of the yard, a pair of shoes by the door that look like they’ve been there too long, and no sign
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