Noel stood motionless in the middle of his bedroom floor, bare feet rooted to the carpet as though someone had nailed them in place. The thin cotton nightshirt clung slightly to his still-damp skin from the bath—loose around the shoulders, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hem brushing just above his knees. His dark hair was wet at the ends, droplets sliding down his neck and soaking into the collar. The room smelled of soap, warm water, and the faint smoke that still lingered in his hair no matter how hard he'd scrubbed. The lamp on the bedside table burned low; its light didn't quite reach the far corners, leaving shadows pooled around the wardrobe and the balcony door.
The balcony door was still left slightly open... Just a crack.
He was a hundred per cent sure it was locked before he had his bath—he was sure of it. The key was still in the lock on the inside, turned fully. But now the door stood ajar, cold night air slipping through the gap..
His heart gave one hard, painful thud.
