Don’t kid yourself, Brooke. You know exactly what you’re looking at. Her scarf is lying on the coffee table upstairs. I’ve got to get out of this basement. I drop the Merlot on the ground, and the bottle shatters into dozens of pieces. I run for the stairway, taking the steps two at a time, not bothering to be careful this time. I place my hand on the knob and… It doesn’t turn. Oh God. It’s locked.
I CALLED IT I KNEW IT IM SO FREAKING SMART
