He never cleaned. “What are you doing?” He glanced up from the table and threw his hands behind his back. His eyes were in full panic mode, his mouth moving but no sound escaping. “What’s wrong?” Why wasn’t she still in her bedroom? “Did she—” Eden saw the door to her bedroom. There were two large holes near the hinges and it was hanging at an odd angle, staying upright only because of the padlock on the outside. Then she looked to the front door, which was slightly ajar, but still looked whole. She grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it and her arms around her naked body. “How did she get out?” Carter shook his head, but said nothing. Eden brought her hand up to rub her eyes. When she unclenched her fist, she saw a straw. Cut short. An inch, maybe two. Not something one would use for a daiquiri. Some kind of powder sticking to one end.
