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EMMA
The shadowy figure moves toward the bed and my heart freezes in my chest.
Am I still asleep?
Am I dreaming this?
The figure gets closer and closer as Finn bolts awake from my scream and pushes himself upward.
“Emma? Honey, what is it?”
The figure startles as if surprised to see someone else in my bed, but before I can tell Finn what I see, he flies out of the bed with a yell and tackles the shadow to the floor.
No, not a shadow. A real person and Finn sees them too.
Holy shit.
Clutching at the covers, I draw them over my naked body while Finn wrestles with the stranger on the floor. Grunts of pain rise and a muffled yell follows. I scramble at my bedside table in search of the light, knocking aside my phone and the glass of water. My trembling fingers finally locate the light switch and I turn it on, filling the entire room with golden light.
Half a second later, Finn is on his feet with the stranger and they wrestle until the stranger, clad entirely in black, breaks apart and punches Finn square in the face. Finn flies backward into my bedside table, crashing into the light and once again plunging the entire room into darkness.
“Finn!”
The stranger slams through my bedroom door, but as Finn chases after him, his leg appears to give out, and he falls to the ground with a frustrated yell. The front door slams open, echoing through the house. Finn is back on his feet, chasing after the intruder.
I can’t move.
I’m so fucking scared. My heart races like a blur in my chest and my muscles have turned to stone.
I need to help Finn.
I need to get any kind of help!
Peering through the dark, it takes me a painfully long time to locate my phone in the mess of my now-destroyed bedside table. Luck is thankfully on my side and I turn my phone on. Just as I hit emergency, a hand closes over my wrist and a scream of terror wrenches from my throat.
“It’s me!” Finn says as I jerk away from him, then clutch at him.
“Finn!”
“It’s me, it’s okay.”
“Where is he? Did you catch him? Are you okay?”
Finn wipes at his face in the dark, and while I can’t see the features on his face, I can make out that he is shaking his head.
“No. I’m so sorry, Emma.”
“Fuck, it’s okay. I’m—I’m calling the police.”
“You chased the intruder?” Once again, Detective Anderson stands in my lounge with Detective Mosse just behind him while two other officers conduct a search of my bedroom.
“Yes.” Finn sits beside me, his hand firmly locked in mine. We’re dressed now, and two lukewarm cups of tea sit on the table in front of us. I can’t stop shaking, no matter how hard I will myself to get it under control. Even Finn’s touch isn’t enough to calm my frayed nerves.
“How far?”
“I fell”—Finn’s hand tightens around mine—“in the bedroom. An old war wound. By the time I reached the front door, he was gone. I checked up and down the street but there was no one in sight.”
“And you’re sure it was a man?” Detective Anderson scribbles quickly into his notebook.
