All text: Daisy put her phone on the kitchen table and gazed up at the ceiling as the possibilities swirled around in her head. Could this really be happening? Her cheeks hurt from the press of her smile, but her smile dropped when she heard tires on gravel and the low rumble of a busted muffler. She grabbed her phone and bounded up the stairs two at a time. In her bedroom she stayed as still and quiet as possible as the sound of Malcolm knocking on the kitchen door echoed through the house. Then, once he gave up, she watched from her window as he walked over to her car and circled it, peering in as casual as a downtown shopper before he wandered off across the farmyard. Her skin prickled. Why was he looking in her car? She scanned the yard. Wheaties wasn’t in her usual place under the oak tree. Daisy craned her neck, crowding in with the stuffed animals on her windowsill so she could see the end of the driveway. “Mom, where are you?” she whispered.
Even Wheaties the cat disappears when Malcolm shows up.
From my horror novel, Coloraville, complete but in need of a major revision.
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