Chapter 3

A strange smell drifted through the crack in the door.

It wasn't the musty scent of humidity. Nor was it the smell of cooking.

It was the unmistakable blend of cheap perfume and dust.

The living room was dim, with thick curtains pulled shut.

The furniture was plain, even bordering on crude.

Everything seemed perfectly normal.

I walked through the living room and made a beeline for the balcony.

The balcony door was open.

I walked over.

The balcony was tiny, with just a washing machine and a few empty flower pots.

The floor was dry.

There was no standing…