The Omega Knotting a Stranger

25

LILY

W ithout another word, Archer and I are both on our feet from the couch and racing toward the basement door off the kitchen. Thor barks excitedly, following as we thunder down the wooden stairs into the cool, dimly lit space below.

I’ve been down here before—James showed me the freezers where Hunter stores game meat, and I’d joked nervously about it being the perfect place to hide bodies. The basement is utilitarian—concrete floor, exposed beams overhead, walls constructed of fieldstone and mortar. Two large chest freezers hum against one wall. Shelves lined with emergency supplies occupy another wall, while tools hang in neat rows above a workbench in the corner.