“She lives here. What’s going on?” Cal asked, coming up behind me.

The uniform looked from me to him, his expression unreadable. Which did absolute nothing to quell the fear rising in my throat.

“You’d better take her away,” the uniform finally told Cal.

Like hell.

I shoved at the officer’s arm, pushing my way into the foyer.

Which was far enough to see just what had prompted the guy’s poker face.

Laying on the living room carpet, facedown, was a figure clad in a blue polyester track suit, her pink scalp visible between her tight, white curls. And beneath her, an ugly red stain spread on our beige Berber.

I heard a scream and was only vaguely aware that it might be coming from me. My legs collapsed, and I landed in a heap on the floor. Two arms instantly went around my middle, lifting me up and dragging me back outside. I closed my eyes, shaking my head defiantly from side to side as a strong chest pressed against my face. It couldn’t be. I refused to believe it. Aunt Sue was fine. That scene, it hadn’t just happened. This was a dream. A very bad dream that I’d wake up from any minute now.

“I’m sorry,” Cal whispered into my hair. And I realized I was sobbing, tears soaking the front of his shirt as he held me tight. So tight I almost couldn’t breathe. So tight I wasn’t sure he’d ever let go. Then again, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted him to.

I don’t know how long we stood like that, but it felt like an eternity. I began to shiver in the cool breeze, my wet bathing suit clinging to my skin. I felt Cal drape his jacket around my shoulders. It was warm and smelled like soap and leather. I shut my eyes, inhaling the scent. Trying to focus on just that one scent, trying to block out the horrible flashing lights still bathing our neighborhood in ominous light.

“What’s going on here?”

My head shot up, my voice catching in my throat. I spun around.

To find Aunt Sue and Millie striding across the lawn.

I launched myself at them, tackling Aunt Sue around her middle. Huge tears flowed down my cheeks. Only this time, they were in relief.

“Ohmigod, you’re alive.”

“Well, of course I’m alive. It was just bingo,” she shot back, detaching me. “And you’ve got my shirt all wet. Where are your clothes?”

I choked back a laugh, relief replacing the grief which had replaced the fear, which all had me feeling limp, tired, and amazed I could even stand up still.

“What’s going on?” Aunt Millie asked, squinting at the flashing lights through her glasses. “You having some sort of party?”