Autumn and Blake make it out the door first, followed closely by the others. Jazz is standing at the bottom of the porch steps with her hand over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and the color has washed out of her face. She looks up and removes her hand to point at a box sitting on the top step.

Autumn looks down at it and her heart catches in her throat.

“Is that blood?” she stammers while visually studying the small brown box. The bottom of the container looks ...