Flames At Midnight

11 | quentin miller

Without Grace and Porter around, the house felt drastically emptier. Even though they technically had nothing to do with all that was going on, I felt like they had just as much of a part in it. I didn't realize how much I relied on their presence until they were gone.

A door shut somewhere in the house, and Dillon came back into the kitchen. "Nothing in the garage. Completely empty. You get anything?"

"I found a butter knife," I said, "but I don't think it's going to work..."

"Worth a shot, I guess," Dillon mumbled, pushing back his dark locks and taking the knife. He grabbed the box and hoisted it onto the kitchen table. He jimmied the blade into the crack under the lid.

We had initially tried using raw strength to break off the lid, but that didn't work. We only ended up with blisters on our hands and bruised fingers.

Dillon struggled with the butter knife. He gritted his teeth as he worked, the lean muscles on his arms flexing. He was trying to wedge the knife inside and use it like a lever to pop open the chest, but the lock was holding strong.

"This isn't working. Let's just take the box and go," Dillon said, exasperated. "We're just wasting time here. The sooner we can get this open, the sooner we'll see what that guy was after."

I glanced around the kitchen.

There were definitely signs of a struggle. A broken dish on the ground. The spots of blood. A chair that'd been knocked over. If only my ability was useful enough to help me understand what happened, and where Ava was.

I wondered if the masked men grabbed her and if she was hurt. If only we knew how many of them there were.

Our simple trip had turned into a mystery and a manhunt.

Kya reappeared in the kitchen. "No sign of a key. I thought I found one above the frame of the bathroom door, but it turns out it was just the key for the bathroom. Go figure, right?"

"We're not having much luck either," Dillon said, dropping the knife with frustration.

"Can I give a try?"

Dillon raised an eyebrow at her. "You think you can get it open?"

"Maybe it just needs a woman's touch," she said.

He shrugged and took a step back. "All yours."

Kya angled the box towards her. She lifted the padlock and examined it closely. Then she reached into her hair and pulled out two bobby pins. We watched with confusion as she bent them until they were both in an L shape.

Carefully, she inserted the pins into the lock, her hands moving smoothly and expertly. She grinned when she caught our flabbergasted expressions. "Just need a little wiggle here..."

"You're not really going to—"

Click.

Dillon looked impressed, but he was also frowning. "You couldn't have done that from the beginning? We spent almost half an hour trying to get that thing open."

"Where did you learn to do that?" I asked.

She merely shrugged. "I watch a lot of Youtube."