My husband had to work late, so I went alone to drop off homemade cookies for his mom, Sharon. When I got there, my FIL Frank wasn’t home, and Sharon didn’t greet me at the door. I texted Frank, and he replied, “I’m out with the guys. Sharon’s resting. You can head home.” That didn’t sit right with me. Sharon never missed greeting visitors—especially family. As I turned to leave, I heard a faint tapping sound from upstairs. I hesitated, then followed the sound to the attic door—the one Frank always referred to as his “private space.” Oddly, the key was already in the lock..
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