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Summary
The Harrington house was quiet. Which wasn't odd. It was usually quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were often out on a business trip, or at a fancy dinner with their coworkers, or they were just not home.
Steve had grown accustomed to this behavior. And he'd actually started to enjoy it. He liked the soft hum of the fridge and the rhythmic ticking of the clock. He liked the sound of the television playing in the distance. He liked the sound of his own footsteps trailing across the floor. He liked the sound of the cars zipping past his house.
But tonight's quiet wasn't right.
Tonight's quiet was too quiet.
And it was all his fault.