Chapter 1Half a Severed Finger

Returning home tonight, I realized the peephole on my front door was gone. In its place was a hollow, empty socket.

My heart plummeted.

Because tucked inside that very peephole, I had hidden half of a severed finger.

* * *

I cast a casual glance down the empty hallway, keeping my movements deliberate and calm. I pulled out my phone and tapped open the security app.

The feed showed that exactly three minutes ago, a masked, shadowy figure had bypassed my lock.

His technique was old-school. First, he twisted the peephole casing loose from the outside. Then, he slid a long, bent wire through the vacant hole. Navigating by touch, he hooked the interior doorknob, gave it a sharp tug, and the latch clicked open.

As for the severed finger I had wedged inside the mechanism, the wire had punched it straight into the apartment.

The intruder had slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. He took two steps before stumbling, his boot catching on something small and soft on the hardwood floor. He knelt, picked it up, and stared at the half-finger in his palm.

The feed showed him freezing, entirely paralyzed.

Realizing he had stumbled into a predator's den, the intruder panicked, turning back toward the door to make a run for it.

But that was the exact moment I arrived.

Right now, only a thin sheet of wood separated us.