Page 68 of Deception

One way or another, Olive knew she’d head upstairs. There was no need to delay the inevitable.

Gripping her gun, she started up the first step.

She walked slowly, quietly. The stairs didn’t make any noise beneath her. Plus, she still remembered where all the creaks were. She’d become an expert when she’d lived here.

She reached the top landing and paused. If she went right, she’d reach the primary bedroom. To her left was the hall bathroom and two smaller bedrooms, the one closest to her being her old room, and the other being where the twins had slept.

Olive considered her options before heading right. She’d check out her parents’ old room first.

Carefully, she pushed the door open.

She scanned the inside of the room. A king-sized bed stretched in the center of the space with an off-white coverlet over it. A large dresser and a chest of drawers lined two walls. A standing mirror was positioned in the corner.

Olive glanced at the reflection to see if it showed anything she couldn’t see from where she stood.

It didn’t.

Still, she carefully walked around the edge of the room. She paused at the primary bathroom.

Instead of flinging the door open, she opened it quietly.

She wanted the element of surprise to be on her side.

But the bathroom was empty.

She blew out a breath.

This room was clear. But the flashes of memories she kept experiencing might be the most dangerous thing of all. This place represented all she’d lost—her mom, her dad, her sisters.

Her childhood.

Her family hadn’t been perfect—not even close. But she felt like a different person now, a much lonelier person.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Olive moved on to the hall bathroom.

The small space had no place to hide. It was clear.

Then she checked the twins’ bedroom.

To her surprise, the pine bunk beds were still there.

An uneasy feeling filled her. Other people had lived here since her family, right? Although, the neighbor did say no one had lived here since he moved in three years ago.

This place hadn’t been abandoned for nine years. What sense would that make? The house was perfectly sellable, perfectly livable. There was no reason for it not to be lived in . . . unless there was more going on than met the eye.

Her uneasiness grew.

Carefully, she walked across the floor and slid open the accordion-style closet doors.

The space was empty.

She let out another breath.

Her muscles remained tense as she waited, expecting someone to pop out.

But so far, those fears were unfounded.

Only one room was left.