Abandoning the shed, she made her way over to the back patio. There was a sliding glass door leading into the house. The blinds weren’t quite closed all the way, so she was able to peek inside. All the lights were off, and at first, she mostly saw her own reflection, floating in the glass, a garish head with no body. But when she moved closer, her nose brushing the icy surface, she was able to make out the shape of the couch, a couple of end tables, a lamp. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Time was running out. They could be waking up anytime now, and she was no closer to finding Amelia than when she’d left her apartment. She had to get inside. But how?

She’d had a slider exactly like this one in the house that she’d shared with Dan when they were first married. Back then, she was constantly locking herself out. She’d learned early on that the slider was her best option for getting in. That’s why Dan had eventually wedged a pole in the slider. He figured if it was easy for Whitney to break in, it would be easy for anyone else.

Whitney noticed with glee that they didn’t have anything wedged to keep the slider closed. And their lock was similar to the one she and Dan had had. She knew she’d be able to get the door open. The trick was going to be keeping quiet. When she’d been breaking into her own house, she hadn’t had to worry about that part.

Taking a deep breath, she gripped the handle and tugged upward. When she felt the lock come loose, she shoved the slider to the left. It caught again, re-latching. She waited a few seconds, staring through the glass. No lights came on. No movement detected.

She tried again.

This time it worked, and she glided the slider open. It squeaked a little. She stood still, held her breath, waiting. Silently praying she hadn’t woken anyone.

When the sound of snoring reached Whitney’s ears, she heaved a sigh of relief. She took light steps into the family room, keeping her eyes trained on the path in front of her, careful not to bump into something or kick something over. After getting this far, she couldn’t afford to screw anything up.

An overpowering floral scent clung to everything in the room. It caused a tickle to form in her throat. She clamped her mouth closed, forced her breath through her nose. The last thing she needed was to start coughing.