I held my breath, doing my best to focus on the sounds coming from downstairs, the sound of the front door opening and closing. I could hear my heart thudding wildly, the sound echoing in my ears, while I felt it in my chest. I did my best to stay focused on what it was that was happening downstairs, even though there was something inside of me that told me that there was no need to worry, that it was Matthew who had come home, who had walked through the front door.
But I knew better than to blindly accept what it was that I was thinking, choosing instead to do what my father had raised me to do, and to stay cautious instead, staying vigilant.
I paid close attention to the footsteps that ascended the stairs, taking in their measured pace, the cautious way in which they connected with t
