SEVENTY-FOUR.

I held my breath, doing my best to try to pick up on any unusual sounds coming from the front of the cabin.

My eyes dart around the closet in the dark, looking for any signs of shadows beneath the door and in between the double doors.

I feel like I’m about to pass out. This is all too much and I just want it to be over with.

Standing up, I slowly open the closet doors, being mindful of the slight squeaking sound it makes when it gets halfway. I turn to my side and slowly squeeze myself between the doors, then tiptoe down the hallway.

The cabin is still. Not a sound penetrates the air, and I begin to panic even more, wondering if Holden has been shot or taken hostage by our intruder.

As I get to the living room, I hesitantly peek my head around the corner and I am met with the front door being left ajar.

I descend the three stairs and look around the living room, noticing that there aren’t any bullet holes in the walls or the kitchen. I lower my gaze to the floor in front of the door