The back door wasn’t locked, so Kara let herself in without a moment’s hesitation. It was late, far past dark, but she was expected. The night and flickering porch light gave her ample cover should anyone happen to see her, and if they did they would and wouldn’t recognize her. She locked the door behind her, though. This was no one’s business but her own.
Kara walked through the kitchen, admiring the brushed stainless steel appliances and the shine on the toaster that allowed her to see every line on her face and every gray hair that she combed her hair carefully to hide. She passed through the dining room with its perfectly centered tablecloth and then through the living room to the stairs. Everything was neat and ordered, and she was slipping into it all like putting on a beloved pair of jeans.
She unbuttoned her own jeans…
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