Damien Sterling frowned. He was right in the middle of something; how could he just stop? He leaned closer to Emma Hart's ear and whispered, "No rush, let's deal with this first." Then, his movements suddenly sped up, becoming more intense. After another round of tossing and turning on the bed, they finally got up. Both made a shushing gesture to each other, ready to check out what was going on outside.
They each grabbed a golf club from the master bedroom closet, put on their shoes, and stealthily walked out the door.
Sure enough, the noise they heard earlier was real because the door to the small bedroom, which was previously closed, was now wide open. The white curtains fluttered with the cold wind blowing in. The small bedroom was pitch black, reminiscent of a horror movie scene. Emma Hart felt a surge of tension. She instinctively grabbed the corner of Damien Sterling's shirt.
