She was halfway out of the front door (late late LATE), hopping as she jammed the other foot into a shoe, when she remembered that her keys were still upstairs. Swearing mightily, she turned and scrambled upstairs, haste turning her practically quadrupedal as she turned the corner off the first landing and dived into her room.
She'd emptied her pockets the night before, dumping keys and change on the bedside table by the door. She could visualise it clear as day - but the tabletop held only shrapnel. She checked her pockets again swiftly, mechanically, then quickly crouched to check under the table.
Nothing. She fumbled with the edge of the coverlet to see whether they'd somehow bounced, jingle-jangling, beneath the bed. Nothing. Standing, she scanned the room in a mild panic. The double bed to her left took up most of the space, a horseshoe walkway leading around the foot of the bed to the other side. Furniture lined the wall ahead and the wall to her right, leaving just the rear window on the other side of the bed looking out over the garden. Right next to her was the old oak wardrobe, doors slightly ajar, with a mid-size chest of drawers next to it in the same wood - the top clear except for a small pile of paperbacks and some clean clothes she hadn’t yet put away. She gave these barely a glance, darting around the bed to search the crowded top of the dressing table against the far wall.
Nothing. Turning to sweep her eyes across the room again, she wondered. Did I move them to the bedside cabinet on the other side of the bed? She knew she had not - she knew - and yet she scurried around the other side of the bed to check. Nothing. Crouching to check the floor around the unit, increasingly desperate, she lifted the coverlet from that side. Nothing. She got onto her hands and knees. The bed was low-slung by design, only clearing the floor by a few inches, and didn't offer much in the way of storage space. Looking underneath, she could see all the way through to the other side, lit from the open bedroom door. Nothing. Straightening, still on her knees, she stared about her in bewilderment. Where in the-- jingle-jangle She blinked, and scanned the room again. Had she knocked the keys off something when she’d scurried around the room? No. That wasn’t the sou--
jingle-jangle
She became very still, as though all of the adrenaline had just drained through her feet into the carpet.
jingle-jangle
It sounded muffled, though. Like it was--
jingle-jangle
Her mouth was suddenly dry.
jingle-jangle
She stared at the wardrobe across the bed, the doors slightly ajar. Her eyes flicked right to
the open bedroom door next to it, then back again. Had the wardrobe door moved slightly?
jingle-jangle
She stared, willed herself not to blink, to move, but she began to tremble anyway. To get to the door, to get out of the room, to get out of here I need to--
jingle-jangle
jingle-jangle
jingle-jangle
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