The Devil’s Daughter

Dean stepped slowly into the dark room, his hightops squeaked against the shining, hardwood floor. After a series of unanswered knocks, he had let himself in through the unlocked door. He was already regretting it.

• • •

One Week Ago

I walked down the long hallway in my house towards the familiar sound of my wife in her rocking chair. I followed a trail of mud and dirt on the hardwood floor and approached the chair from behind. The rain pounded loudly against the window. Fear clenched my stomach.

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