Page 153 of Tangled Like Us

How many intruders were there?

Do we know the intruders or are they merely strangers?

How did they slip past security guards who watch the townhouse?

What did they even want?

At the moment, the police and our bodyguards are trying to answer those questions. They’re reviewing security cam footage in the living room while Moffy and I head upstairs to take inventory of anything that may’ve been stolen or destroyed.

So we can file a police report.

I carry old and wise Lady Macbeth up the creaking staircase, my black cat snuggled against my chest. “What happened here, my love?” I whisper.

She meows contently. Not so frightened or skittish—she rarely is. Yet Lady Macbeth saw who crept into the empty house.

Only my six cats were here, and I’ve triple-checked each one and hugged them to death. They’re all accounted for. None are hurt.

None escaped.

But an eerie feeling pricks my arms and the back of my neck. Just picturing an intrudertouchingmy cats.

Imagining one or two or even three pairs of feet ascending these stairs without our permission. Entering our bedrooms. Hands skating over our belongings. Maybe with malicious intent.

Maybe with cruel hate.

I feel awfully gross.

Like I need to bathe and scrub every wall and floor and all of me. And I can’t help but remember the last time I experienced this nauseating violation that sinks and churns the bottom of my stomach.

Nate.

I worry he had a hand in the break-in.

But there’s no use in dwelling right now. I need to be on top of damage control. It’s what Moffy and I are good at, and Sulli and Lunahaveto feel safe to return here. They’re spending the night in Hell’s Kitchen with my brothers while we sort through this mess.

“I can’t make sense of what they were hoping to steal,” I whisper to Moffy, only one stair ahead of me, climbing the narrow staircase. “We live in the least lavish house of all the properties.” Mind spinning, I talk rapidly. “I hot-glued a bottle cap on my twelve-dollar vest the other day. My mom is the one who collects designer handbags and wears Chanel and Prada. And if I could guess, the most expensive item you own would be your car.”

Thatcher and Farrow already checked the garage and every vehicle.All clear, they said. We were mostly worried about Sulli’s Jeep, but it’s completely intact.

Nothing stolen or damaged there.

“Maybe it’s not the price tag they’re after, Janie,” Maximoff whispers back.

“They want something of sentimental value?” I wonder. “If that were the case, they would’ve taken Sulli’s Jeep.”

He steps over Toodles who sprawls sluggishly on an entire stair. “I bet it’d be harder to steal a car than things you can hold.”

Good points.“Yes, the risk does seem higher.”

His shoulders are squared, and once we reach the second-floor landing, I set Lady Macbeth down. Moffy and I work together to check Sulli and Luna’s room. We do a deep-dive and ensure everything is in place.

Including Sulli’s Olympic gold medals, climbing gear, framed family photos, and Luna’s laptop, Wampa cap, and sweatshirts. For the most part, their room appears entirelyuntouched.

We check my perpetually messy room next.

I find my pink buckled sandals stuffed in my closet where I last left them. Ones that my mom gifted me after the FanCon tour, and I let out a sigh of relief.

I have other keepsakes. Like a Siamese cat bobble-head that Moffy and I won at a fair, my diploma from Princeton, a stack of birthday cards tied with ribbon from all my siblings each and every year.