Everything She Has: A Gripping Unputdownable Psychological Thriller by Alesha Dykema

Author:Alesha Dykema [Dykema, Alesha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brandywine House Publishing
Published: 2023-06-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“You call it hope—that fire of fire! It is but agony of desire." - Edgar Allan Poe

Corrie’s house was easy enough to find. She posted a picture on Instagram two years ago when she bought the place. I only had to zoom in to see the address numbers. From there, I remembered her mentioning the drive to the gallery was bad because there was an accident on I-65 South. I scrolled a little farther back on her Instagram and found a picture of the Median Hills town sign captioned with “House hunting today! Wish me luck.”

I searched the address numbers on Google maps and found a few streets with those numbers. Then I used the street view to virtually walk around the neighborhood until I found the house that matched her other picture.

And voilà!

Her Instagram stories tell me she has left for yet another buying trip. The hardest part will be getting inside. I have to hope that living alone hasn’t made Corrie hyper-focused on security. She lives in one of the best neighborhoods in the state, for crying out loud. She should feel plenty safe.

I climb into my car with a bag of supplies: a brown wig, a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a small assortment of tools. It was easier to sneak around when I didn’t have very bright, distinctive blonde hair to give me away, so I had to splurge on an Amazon wig to better disguise myself.

Tormenting Corrie is a little off my course of winning over Theo. But I have things I need to figure out, and Corrie is pissing me off. So, I figured two birds, one stone. Step away from the problem at hand, clear my head while focusing on something else, get revenge on Corrie for being a rude bitch. So I guess it’s three birds.

I park on the street and stride up the driveway. The sun is just setting. I debated whether to do this during the day or at night. Most break-ins happen during daylight hours because everyone expects them to happen at night and, therefore, are less suspicious of people during the day. In the end, I took too long to decide, and now here I am right in the middle.

The house is nice enough. Compared to any place I’ve lived, it’s the Taj Mahal. But if I had her money, it’s definitely not what I would pick. It’s a two-story that looks like one of those mass-manufactured homes. White siding with small bushes that line the front.

I walk along the side of the house, assuming she locked the front door. Scanning the faces of the house for any obvious cameras, I walk casually up to the back door when I don’t see any. It’s locked.

I move to the windows, knowing a lot of people forget to lock them. There is one right beside her back door, but that one is locked too. Shit. Crossing my arms, I look around, trying to figure out a way in. I glance down and read the brown floor mat.

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