CHAPTER 1: THE IMPACT AT THE THRESHOLD The heavy oak front door shuddered in its frame, sending a shower of dried paint flecks onto the hardwood floor as the crack of dense ash wood echoed through the entryway. In the dim hallway, Marcus stood motionless, four inches from the brass peep-hole. His hand rested on…
CHAPTER 1: The Line in the Asphalt The smell of hot pine resin and scorched brake pads clung to the gravel shoulder, thick enough to taste. Julian Vance kept his pencil pressed against the grain of the rough-cut cedar plank, his thumb steady against the steel rule. He did not blink, nor did he shift…
CHAPTER 1: THE ORANGE INK ON THE POST The heat came off the asphalt in visible, oily waves, distorting the neat lines of the opposite lawns until the colonial-style facades looked waterlogged. Sarah didn’t look at the houses across the street. Her focus was entirely on the mailbox post at the edge of her gravel…