The Quiet

Lena had gotten to Cari’s in little under an hour. I was the one who opened the door and when I did, she lunged at me, hugging me tightly.

“Oh, Clay! I’m glad you’re okay.”

Part of me wanted to push her away, but then I knew if I did, she’d probably leave. She might even go and get herself killed too. Just to piss Lena off, Cari came up beside me and took my hand.

Lena stared, her face illuminated in the light from the candle that Cari held, and then her eyes narrowed.

“You work fast, don’t you?” she said as she stepped inside.

“Lena,” I muttered. “This really isn’t the time for your jealousy.”

“Do you have another candle?” Lena asked Cari. She moved behind her, staring at me the whole time, like a predator.

“Here,” I said, reaching behind me and throwing an unlit one at her.

She caught it and scowled, then tipped the wick toward the candle in Cari’s hands. It made the foyer area glow faintly, and gave Lena a spooky look. She grinned at me and ran her finger slowly through the flame.

“Fuck, your house is huge. I didn’t expect this.” Lena smiled coldly. “I thought maybe you lived in a shack. I hear those are cozy. Don’t you agree, Clay?”

“No,” I muttered, ignoring what she was hinting at. I stepped down the hall and back into the living room. I placed the candle on the coffee table and sat on the couch. “What did the guy say to you?”

“Who said he called me?” Lena asked, running a hand over her red hair. She took a seat beside me, a little too close. “I didn’t say that when I called.”

“But then why did you want to come here?” Cari asked, as she walked into the room. “I know it wasn’t to see my house.”

“Alright,” Lena muttered. “He told me—”

Before she finished, we heard a crash in another part of the house.