147

She tiptoed toward Laura's room, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob for a moment. Was she really going to do this? The thought of invading someone's privacy made her uncomfortable, but that wasn't something she should be thinking about at that moment. She clearly would be out of her mind if she dwelled on it.

Gently, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was modestly furnished, with a neatly made bed, a small dresser, and a nightstand. Everything seemed ordinary, but she knew better than to take things at face value. She carefully opened the dresser drawers, rifling through the neatly folded clothes. There was nothing out of the ordinary—just the typical belongings of a young woman: brushes, hair gel, hairbands, combs, lotions, stuff like that.

Next, she checked the nightstand. There were a few personal items: a small bottle of perfume, another hairbrush, and a couple of books. She opened the drawer and found a notebook. Flipping throu