Prologue
The floorboards didn’t make a sound. That was the secret to the whole thing—knowing exactly where to place your weight, breathing only when the house itself breathed.
He stood at the edge of the master bedroom, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the blanket. It almost made him feel envious, seeing someone sleep with that level of unearned peace. He reached into his pocket, his gloved hand closing around the handle of the blade. The metal was cold, but his pulse was steady. This wasn't personal. It never was. It was just time to close the ledger.
