Andre's POV
The moment I pulled into the driveway, dread clawed at my insides. My pulse hammered against my ribs before I even killed the engine. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
The front door hung wide open like a gaping wound. I didn't wait for an invitation. My feet hit the pavement running, taking the porch steps three at a time. The sound of my boots echoed through the house like gunshots.
I found them clustered in the hallway like survivors of some disaster. The sight stopped me cold.
Meryl's father stood there drenched in sweat, his shirt clinging to his chest. My stepfather looked like he'd aged ten years in the last hour. My mother gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles had gone white. They all looked like they'd been through hell.
