Lynda heard the gate open long before Lukas appeared in the house. Her breath caught, stuck somewhere between her lungs and her throat. Her grip on the edge of the dining table went rigid. For a split second, she nearly darted upstairs, but she forced herself not to move. Running would only make things worse; running will confirm his suspicions. So she stood still, heart pounding in her chest like it was trying to break free.

The front door opened, but not in anger or haste. It moved slowly, ...