Book One: Chapter 47

Her eyes flitted around the room, her heart a tiny frightened bird, ready to escape its cage. She needed a weapon, something she could use. She was too vulnerable here, an easy target. She spotted the handle of her loofah, just over a foot long with the scrub-brush on the end. It was better than nothing.

If she could get to the kitchen, she could grab one of the knives. She slid out of the water carefully, moving slowly to avoid splashing. She picked up the loofah, her eyes on the doorway in case her intruder rushed in. Drying her feet on the bathmat, she stepped across the bathroom, looking in the mirror to see if she could spot movement in her bedroom.

The pitter patter of tiny feet sent a chill up her back. She let out a laugh, holding her head in her hands. The quiet footsteps ran across her apartment again, and she tried to picture the tiny animal that had gotten into her apartment. She had never had a rat problem, but she imagined it would sound just like this. Put