He eased the door shut behind us without a sound. Curtains were pulled over the windows, and the room had a dark, gloomy feel and a stale, chilly smell. I usually love the way kitchens smell, but not this one. Todd whispered, “Come on, Bailey!” and I followed him out of the kitchen and down a hallway. About halfway along it we passed a doorway to a living room, where a woman was slumped on a couch, watching television. She didn’t move or even turn her head as we went past. But someone else moved. After we were past the door, Todd turned back. I paused, too. He scowled as a small figure came to the doorway that led into the living room, outlined against the grayish, flickering light of the TV. It was Linda, Todd’s sister. She saw me and her eyes grew wider. She came forward. “No,” Todd hissed at her. I certainly knew that word. I cringed at the sharp tone of Todd’s voice. Linda put a finger in her mouth, chewing at the nail, but she didn’t back up. She held her other hand out to me.
