Chapter 43

Renee’s POV

“Goodnight Mommy,” Debbie says as she brings her pink comforter right up to her chin. I lean against the door frame and blow her a kiss. I flick off the light switch and leave the door open a crack. She’s so innocent, I hope she never has to break into her exes house to retrieve stolen files so she doesn’t get sued for copyright law infringement.

I wait a good hour after Debbie has gone to bed before I start to pull on my black hoodie and a pair of black leggings. I toss my hair up in slick back high pony tail and lace on my old black gym shoes.

Aside from the fear of getting caught for breaking and entering, I hope I don’t get by a car. Again.

I unlatch the door and gently pull it open, it feels silly being the adult and the one who’s sneaking out, but I can’t wake up Debbie. There would be no good reason for me leaving her home alone at night.

In fact, I can’t even stop to think about it because the thought of what I’m doing almost paralyzes me to my house.

I’ve never left Debbie home by her self before, let alone to go commit a crime. I’m pretty sure this will land me at the top of a “worst mothers” list, but what she and no one else knows can’t hurt.

Once outside, the chill of the night cuts to my bones. Winter is approaching quickly.

That’s the one thing I miss about being a wolf, the warm fur.

Once in my car, I defrost the windows. Though it’s late, I’m on high alert. I keep the lights off as I back out of my driveway and until I reach the stop sign at the end of the street.

Eric’s house is a fifteen minute drive which I thought would be an issue when I decided to move back after changing my identity, but it was all I could afford that was at least close to work and Debbie’s doctor office and now I’m grateful it’s not too far. I hate leaving Debbie alone.

I pull up to Eric’s neighborhood and flip the lights off in my car. After have living here for so long, I still have every curve of the road memorized like it’s engrained in my memory.

And if my memory serves correct, Eric still keeps a spare key under a rock on the left side of the houses hedges. If not, I know we always kept the window in the bathroom upstairs unlocked, I just don’t want to scale the side of the house if I don’t have to.

I shut my car door extra carefully, I’m not even sure it closed all the way. I look up at the house. I never realized how high up that second story bathroom window is.

The house is dark which is to be expected, but it also seems lifeless like there’s no a to it going on inside. Maybe Eric isn’t home?

That would be lucky, but me and luck don’t usually go hand in hand. Besides, I can’t let my guard down with assumptions.

I duck down and cross the front yard, unlatching the gate as quietly and quickly as I can. Still a few creaks from the metal sound and it’s like bombs going off. I look up at the house, still nothing.

I run up to the left side of the house and crouch down. The rock is still there. I say a silent prayer and lift the rock from its place and shining under the moonlight is the reflection of a golden key. Yes! I stop myself from calling out.

I snatch the key as if it might disappear from me. Staying low, I creep up to the back of the house pressing myself against the siding so if Eric does happen to look out a window he won’t see me. I can only hope his neighbors aren’t watching right now.

I slip the key into the lock and take a deep breath in as I turn the key and open the door. The bottom of the door slides against the hardwood, and I bring my shoulders to my ears. Has everything always been so loud?

Inside the house, the warmth engulfs me. I didn’t realize I was shivering until now.

Honestly, I didn’t think I would make it this far. I’ve been inside this house for years, it was once my home but now it feels so foreign to me.

I try to think where Mia would keep her design files and the first thought it the office. She probably wouldn’t need to hide them in some secretive spot at her house because she probably doesn’t expect me to do this. I didn’t expect that I would do this.

As I move about the house, I become more and more certain that no one is home. Just to be safe, I pass by the bedroom and listen against the door to hear for Eric breathing or any kind of movement but there is none.

I dare push the door open, holding my breath as I do. The door gives so slightly one might mistake it that the wind pushed the door open. No movement, no sound. I look around, the bed is made. Completely untouched.

I exhale. I’m alone. Who knew breaking and entering could be so easy?

I move about more freely, checking every nook and cranny but careful to put everything back in its place.

Since Eric isn’t home, I check the bedroom anyways, just to be sure.

I look through the dressers but find nothing except clothes and some of Mia’s lingerie. Gross. I’ll have to purge that image out of my mind later.

I move on.

The chest at the end of the bed as nothing but blankets, the beside table has nothing but a blank notebook. I open the wardrobe where all of my old clothes still hang. For a minute it’s like I’m not breaking and entering anymore.

I rifle through the clothes, not sure why this is probably the last place Mia would put anything. As pull through the clothes on the hanger, nostalgia hits me as I recall the times I wore a certain dress or blouse.

I shake my head. I don’t have time for this right now. I have no idea when Eric will be back.

Just as I shut the door, something falls and hits the bottom of the dresser. I pick it up. It’s a stray loose leaf piece of paper.

It’s soft and torn. It must be some old grocery list or something, but when I turn it over I don’t see food items. I see my name.

“Dear Annie,” it’s a letter made out to me. I squint through the dark and try to read it. Then a door slams shut from downstairs.

I choke back a scream and jump into the wardrobe and shut the doors.

Oh no, oh no. The doors barely shut and if I take too much of a deep breath, they’ll bust open. I cover my nose and mouth with my hand to prevent me from breathing too loudly.

The sound of Eric’s footsteps are heavy and uneven. He stomps throughout the house, but they don’t sound angry they sound more . . . lazy. It’s like he can’t get his feet to coordinate with how he’s moving his legs.

I strain my ear to listen, it’s quiet for minute. Maybe he’s on the couch. I might have to jump out the second story bathroom.

The bedroom door rushes open and I clamp my hand harder over my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut.

He’s speaking, but I can’t tell what he’s saying. I wait for a response, to see who he’s talking too, but none ever comes.

There’s more commotion. I try to picture what is going on out there, but I can’t. This doesn’t sound or seem like the composed Eric at work.

More murmuring and then a loud thud. I jump and the clothes rattle. Instantly I freeze d I’m screwed. Theres no way he didn’t hear that. I wait. My mind racing but not forming a single cohesive though.

Silence. I loosen my shoulders.. I poke the wardrobe open and try to look through the tiny slit of an opening. Nothing. Then I see him. Out of the peripheral of my vision I see just his feet. He’s laying down. His shoes are still on.

I open the wardrobe and see Eric passed out on the floor. He’s still in his suit from work.

With the wardrobe open, the smell of alcohol rushes to my nose.

I tiptoe over to Eric and peer down next to him. He’s snoring loudly. I infer a rush of sympathy. This must be how Mia’s mother felt.

It’s hard not to see him as a young child who lost his mother in some brutal way. I grab a pillow from the bed and tuck it under his head. Even if he wakes up, there’s no way he’ll remember me.

His eyes flutter open and my heartbeat quickens.

“Thank you mom,” he slurs, then he laughs and his lips stretch into a lazy grin. “You know it’s usually me who’s taking care of you,” Eric says and my heart breaks.

I never knew his mother, and Eric was so young when she died. What does he mean he took care of her? He was only a child.

“Oh Eric,” I breathe. I stroke my hand on his back. He stirs slightly.

“I love you,” he says and I gasp. Is he talking to me or does he still think I’m his mom? Something in me crumbles, like a wall breaking down. I didn’t know hearing those words would heal years of pain.

I forget who I am for a second and slip right back into Annie.

I lean down next to Eric and kiss him. Before I can stop myself I plant my lips on his and for just a second give him everything in me.

His eyes shoot open and I realize the mistake I made.

“Wh-what?” Eric says coming more aware of his sense. I crawl back on my hands.

“It’s a dream,” I say snatching the letter and running out the bedroom door.