CHAPTER 71

CHAPTER 71

The front door let out a deep, familiar groan of protest as Lila shouldered it open and stepped across the threshold into the Hawthorne home. The entrance stretched out in front of her, tiny but neat, a true reflection of her father's practical principles and workmanlike pride.

She scuffed her trainers against the bristly welcome mat, releasing the grit and debris that had gathered throughout the day on their rubber soles. The regular shucking noises resonated hollowly along the front hall, as Lila went about her daily practice of making herself at home.

Her backpack thudded on the floor with a muffled whump, spreading its contents in a tangled sprawl of notebooks, textbooks and stray pens. She'd worry about resolving that issue later; for now, the enticing draw of escape into the digital ether called with its siren song of consequence-free distraction.

Lila retrieved her smartphone from the chaos, flicking her thumb across the lockscreen in a single practiced flick. The sc