The morning light filtered in, casting jagged shadows on the bed. The sheets were wrinkled. There were two people. Or at least that’s what it seemed at first. Clara didn’t really know what she was seeing. Not right away.
Something wasn’t right.
He took another step.
The silence ceased to be silence. It was something else. Denser. Heavier.
“Who’s there…?”
No one answered.
So, one detail. Small. Insignificant. But enough.
