Chapter 6
6
The thief moved through the night like a shadow, dressed in dark clothing that blended seamlessly into the quiet neighborhood. With the barest of sounds, they unlocked the back door, courtesy of a cousin with reliable information. A slight smirk tugged at their lips—breaking into a home had never been so effortless.
Slipping inside, the thief paused in the kitchen, where only the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting silvery beams on the countertops. The still atmosphere felt almost eerily peaceful. They reached into their pocket and switched on a penlight, the narrow beam piercing the darkness just enough to move through the room without hesitation.
It was easy to predict the routine of the elderly couple. The purse sat right where they expected it—on the counter, waiting to be plundered. The thief’s gloved fingers deftly opened the billfold, extracting the credit cards and cash with the precision of someone who had done this countless times before. No rush, no fumbling—just smooth, calculated movements.
Their gaze flicked over the counter, where a small tray held an assortment of prescription bottles. Most were useless, but the familiar labels of oxycodone and Xanax caught their attention. Without a second thought, the thief pocketed the valuable pills, knowing these would fetch a decent price on the streets.
A small thrill ran down their spine as they stood there, the couple still sound asleep upstairs, blissfully unaware that a stranger had slipped into their home and was now walking away with their possessions. But the thief wasn’t foolish enough to risk more.
As silently as they’d entered, the thief slipped out the way they came. The door closing behind them despite the broken lock was barely audible. They moved quickly through the backyard, hugging the shadows of the fence until they reached the street, where their car waited. Once inside the vehicle, they allowed themselves a moment of satisfaction, the weight of the small pack on their lap a satisfying reminder of their night's work.
They grinned, glancing at the pack before setting it on the passenger seat. This had gone off without a hitch. The thief drove through the quiet streets with their senses sharp, as though every shadow could hold some hidden threat. But they were practiced at this, meticulous and vigilant, and the thrill of their success only made them more focused.
The house was silent as they stepped inside, the stillness a welcome comfort. Sitting at the kitchen table, they opened the pack and spread out the contents—cash, cards, and those precious pills. Their lips curled into a satisfied grin as they leaned back, admiring their haul.