Emil was not at home when the doorbell rang. Coleen no longer had an impulse to see who it was or ruin everything by opening the door. She had not had that impulse for fifteen months.

Something was wrong. Coleen could feel it, even though she had not neared the door to check. The person had not left. They wanted someone to answer the door. They knew she was home.

They knew someone was home. Though if they saw her face all they would know was that the usurped King Cole was here. No matter what, Coleen could not allow that to happen. Not even if someone was breaking in to steal things. She would have to hide and wait it out. A passive tactic she had never before implemented, but knew was her only option.

She felt a slow smoulder in her chest, before remembering it shouldn’t matter too much to her.

Coleen walked away from the living room. The handle jiggled – the person was not giving up. Then she heard a familiar sound.

They are picking the lock.

She heard another familiar sound.

They succeeded in picking the lock.