Death Night

So far, it was the latter. Standing ramrod straight on the sidewalk, Henry tried to summon up a bit of the love he had once felt or the happiness he had experienced. Instead, he felt nothing but anxiety. What if a neighbor spotted him and got suspicious? What if Deana did? That would be interesting, trying to explain why he was there.

His worry was short-lived.

And completely justified.

For while Henry was still looking up at the house’s second floor, the door of the attached garage rose in silence. He didn’t even notice it until a vehicle emerged—a green SUV backing down the driveway.

Seeing the vehicle, Henry made a run for it. He dashed across the driveway, trying to escape undetected. But the driver saw him, as evidenced by the twin flares of brake lights at the back of the SUV. Henry halted in the middle of the driveway, directly behind the vehicle. He raised both arms like a suspect in a cop show. Caught red-handed. The SUV’s driver-side door opened and a familiar face turned to peer out at him.

It was Deana, looking exactly the way he remembered her. Pretty face, kind eyes, surprisingly sensual lips. Those features that Henry had found so disarming more than a year ago stopped him short once again.

They stared at each other, neither one speaking. Henry didn’t know what to say. Deana, he assumed, felt the same way. Her eyes flashed a hundred different emotions. Surprise. Joy. Pain. Regret.

When she finally did speak, it was in a hoarse whisper Henry could barely hear over the steady purr of the idling SUV.

“Henry.”

Not a question. Not an exclamation. Just a quiet and stunned declaration that, despite being gone from her life for the past year, he still existed.

That was more than Henry could muster. His mouth opened as words formed in the back of his throat. He felt them there, brushing his tonsils as they struggled to take shape. Instead of letting them gestate, Henry cut them off and bolted down the sidewalk.

Deana called after him, her voice catching up to him a half-block away. “Henry! Wait!”

But Henry had no choice. He certainly couldn’t go back and face her—not after all that he had been through. Running away was his only option. And instead of slowing down once Deana’s voice faded, Henry quickened his pace. He sprinted without slowing until he reached the Sleepy Hollow Inn, his heart pounding the entire way.

8 A.M. (#ulink_7e2d6fca-6d56-5364-b7e2-5eaf749f3c2e)