Chapter 13 - Whispers in the Dead of Night
I lay down on my bed, fully dressed, but sleep was an impossible luxury. I tossed and turned, the haunting image of my beautiful grandchildren going to bed with empty, aching bellies refusing to leave my mind.
The glowing red numbers on my digital nightstand clock read two in the morning. The house was engulfed in a heavy, suffocating silence. Carlos had texted me earlier saying he was working a brutal double shift and wouldn't be home to sleep at all.
Suddenly, the silence was broken. I started hearing noises coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was a strange, dry, rasping sound. Clack... clack... rasp...
At first, I logically assumed it was Capitán. Sometimes the large dog would wake up in the middle of the night, thirsty or hungry, and move his heavy plastic bowl around. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself back to sleep, but the noise persisted. And then, underneath the scraping plastic, I heard something else. Whispers.
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"Shhh, don't make any noise, you'll wake her up."
My blood instantly ran colder than ice. Had someone broken into the house?
