Ryder West
“Here, this should help,” I muttered to myself as I stirred the hot cocoa in the mug.
I didn’t want Clara feeling like I was looking down on her or treating her like some fragile thing that needed fixing.
She had already been through enough. I just wanted to do something small, something normal, to show her I was there.
The spoon clinked against the side of the mug while I added a little extra marshmallow on top the way I had seen her do once at the office.
I was just turning toward the hallway when my senses suddenly sharpened. My hearing picked up something faint... a soft scrape, almost like fabric brushing against glass.
Then a strange scent hit me, sharp and almost like a chemical, before it vanished just as quickly.
Intruder.
“s**t!” I gasped, the mug slipping f
