The First Thread: An FBI Agent Daisy Adams Thriller by Nadija Mujagic

Author:Nadija Mujagic [Mujagic, Nadija]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pioneer Publishing
Published: 2025-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

15

AGENT ADAMS

By the time I get to my parents’ house, darkness has settled in.

As I pull into the driveway, unease creeps up my spine. I lean forward, peering through the windshield, but the house is completely dark—eerily still. My stomach tightens. That’s not right. My parents never leave the house completely unlit, especially when expecting me.

A sharp pang of dread grips me.

I told my mom I’d be home in less than an hour. Yes, I’m late, but they should know better than to go out. So where are they? Where is Lila? A flood of worst-case scenarios crashes into me—what if they were taken? What if they’re inside, murdered in cold blood?

I bolt out of the car and sprint to the front door, only to find it locked. My pulse hammers. I dart to the nearest window, pressing my hands against the glass, straining to see inside.

Nothing.

The house stares back at me, empty, silent.

Panic swallows me whole.

I jostle the doorknob, my breath coming fast and uneven. Still nothing. I pound on the door, the sound echoing down the quiet street, but there’s no response. My eyes dart to the windows—curtains drawn tight, not a single flicker of movement. The weight of dread coils in my stomach, pressing heavy against my ribs.

I spin around, desperate for another way in, when a soft voice cuts through my panic.

“Daisy?”

I freeze. No one calls me by my full name. It’s always Dee. Short. Familiar. Safe. Hearing it now, stretched out and unfamiliar, sends a cold prickle down my spine. Something is very wrong.

My mother stands near the side of the house, one hand clutching the front of her sweater as if holding herself together.

She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

I let out a shaky breath. Jesus. “Mom,” I gasp, my heart still racing.

“We were in the backyard, watching the sunset. Come on over.” She turns without another word, expecting me to follow.

Fuck. Watching the sunset is the opposite of my family lying lifeless inside, covered in blood. I feel ridiculous. My imagination ran straight to horror when reality was nothing more than a quiet evening. I clench my fists, willing my body to let go of the panic still lodged in my chest.

In the backyard, Lila and my dad sit in Adirondack chairs, angled perfectly toward the fading sun. Their faces glow with the last remnants of daylight. As soon as they see me, they fall silent. Lila eases out of her chair and walks over, wrapping her arms around me.

“Hi, Mom.”

I kiss the top of her head. “Hi, love. How was your day?”

“Good.” Her voice is sweet, warm. Just like the rest of her. “How was yours?” She tilts her head, waiting for my answer.

“It was good.” I pause. “Shall we go home?”

“You don’t want to stay for dinner?” my mom asks, disappointment lacing her voice.

Lila glances at me, waiting for my response.

“I’ve had a long day. How about next time?”

Lila doesn’t argue. She doesn’t dislike being at my parents’ house, but I know she prefers her own space—her room, her music.

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