Chapter 2

The kitchen remained frozen in a terrible half-silence after the scream faded away, with only the rain continuing outside and the faint unsteady rattle of the intruder’s breathing breaking the stillness, while Edgar stood over the fallen figure gripping the baseball bat so tightly his fingers had begun to cramp around the handle.

For several long seconds neither of them moved.

The masked intruder lay twisted on the tile floor beneath the yellow kitchen lights, one leg bent at an angle that immediately disturbed him even before he allowed himself to fully look at it, the black fabric soaked dark where rainwater and blood had mixed together across the floor.

Edgar’s heartbeat hammered violently inside his chest.

His thoughts came apart in fragments.

Too hard.

Jesus Christ.

What have you done?

The figure made a small sound then, somewhere between a gasp and a suppressed cry, and tried instinctively to straighten the injured leg before the movement sent a violent tremor through the entire body.

A thin moan escaped the ski mask.

Young.

Definitely young.

Edgar lowered the bat slowly.

The adrenaline that had driven him moments earlier was already draining away, leaving behind something colder and far worse, because now that the struggle had stopped he could finally see clearly what he had actually done to another human being.

The intruder was small.

Much smaller than he had realized during the chaos.