Her eyes darted back and forth between the house and her car.
Back and forth.
She gazed down at the note, dread thick in her chest. Her heart felt heavy.
God, it was never ending.
Yet, she couldn’t ignore it for much longer. It was her fault after all, she’d been stupid. She was the one who thought it would be fun – she had wanted to play.
She bit down on her lip, hard enough that the metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth.
She opened the note.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
House address 672 Waterlow Street,
You know what to do.
She shuttered, swallowing down the bile that had made its way up. Jumping into her car, she carelessly pulled a gun out of her waist band and threw it on the passenger seat. Speeding away from the curb, she headed towards the address.
She knew what she had to do.