#Chapter132

1.8. Back to the past

Three years later...

The driver's door of my father's old red Camaro SS closed with a small creak as I gave it a firm push with the side of my hips, the keys jingling over my index finger as I mindlessly twirled them around.

Humming a classic tune I then walked all the way on the paved path to the entrance of the Summers house, taking off my thick-rimmed shades and hanging them over my t-shirt once I've reached the double wooden doors. Ringing a few times, I then waited for someone to open the door.

No answer.

I even knocked a few times,...