Charly paused, and tried to keep her uncomfortable stance. She’d walked the long drive with her weight on the front of her feet because her heels kept getting stuck in the dirt. A crash made her eyebrows rise, and she wondered what was going on. She gripped her bag to her side, then looked on the ground for something she could use to protect herself if she had to. She’d come too far to turn around, but she wasn’t certain about moving forward. But what else could she do? She was in the middle of nowhere, and had no other way to leave except by foot, and hers were hurting too much to accomplish that without her soles catching fire. A crash similar to dishes hitting a wall sounded through the opened windows of the eyesore of a dilapidated house. It was two stories high, painted an awful lemon yellow, and had baby blue shutters. Suddenly, all was quiet. Charly stood in place waiting to see if it was safe to approach. She reached into her purse and retrieved her cell phone. She shook her head.
