Checking Out in Room C3

Unlocked doors. Locked windows. One shoe marks where the order ended.

The corpse in Room C3 is still warm when my B&B turns crime scene, and my careful routines collapse.

Now, every casserole in town is served with a fresh theory, and the only ally I trust has paws, a stubborn bark, and a nose for buried evidence.

Gizmo sniffs out a latex glove tossed behind dusty curtains and secrets no cleaning checklist can touch.

The sheriff wants silence and the sheets changed by noon.

But the crack in his story widens every time I pass the guestbook.

Trust, I measure out in teaspoons and folded towels.

But I have no recipe to follow when murder comes calling.

Letting in chaos means risking the fragile safety I've built room by room.

If I miss what's hiding in plain sight, my sanctuary becomes one more rumor in Seaglass Haven—and it'll never be washed clean again.