Chapter 25 - The Race Against Time
I threw my tools into their cases, locked the workshop doors with shaking hands, and jumped into my truck. The drive back through the coastal winding roads felt agonizingly slow. Every shadow cast by the towering pine trees looked like an ambush; every oncoming vehicle made my grip on the steering wheel tighten until my fingers ached.
When I pulled into our driveway, the house was dark.
My heart slammed against my ribs. The exterior motion-sensor lights weren't on.
"Nora!" I shouted, bursting through the front door, drawing my Glock in a single fluid motion.
The house was empty. The kitchen table was still set with the coloring books and crayons from the morning, but the back door stood wide open, letting in the cold evening breeze off the ocean.
A sudden, dizzying wave of nausea washed over me. I sprinted through every room, clearing the corners, checking closets, calling her name until my voice cracked.
"Nora! Nora!"
Nothing. Silence, save for the wind whistling through the loose floorboards.
On the kitchen counter, resting right where my phone had been earlier, was a single object:
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A small, yellow duck keychain—the exact one from Nora’s blue backpack.
Attached to it was a tiny, handwritten note: “Check the workshop, Ethan. Let’s see how fast you can run.”
