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Jake gently pushed the door open, making sure it didn’t creak, as he didn’t want to wake Claire. He stepped softly into the darkened living room.
It was empty, silent. He closed the door, and crept further into the room. Something was wrong. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but the tiny nagging doubt was there. Placing his bags on the work surface, he went to pull the curtains, hoping some light would help.
“Wh…who’s there?” quivered a voice from the gloom.
Sunlight bounded into the room, with all the enthusiasm and curiosity of a puppy. He moved away from the window, so that she could see him, and smiled. “Claire, it’s me.”
“Jake,” she cried, leaping from her cocoon on the sofa. “I…I thought you weren’t coming back.”
He gazed at her sorrowfully, “What has he done to you?”