The tapping grew louder. Sharper. More deliberate.
Not wind.
Not a branch.
Not an animal.
Something wanted my attention.
My breath hitched as I stepped closer to the window, each movement slow and careful as if sudden motion might provoke whatever was on the other side.
The garden lights flickered once, then died completely, plunging the outside world into absolute black.
I gripped the edge of the counter. "No… no, no, no."
And then
A pale shape pressed against the glass.
A hand.
Splayed flat.
Thin.
Almost skeletal.
I choked on a gasp and stumbled backward, hitting the cabinets behind me. The hand lingered for a moment just long enough for the faint outline of fingers to drag downward, leaving no real mark but somehow feeling deliberate, intimate.
Then it vanished.
The tapping stopped.
The darkness beyond the window swallowed everything again.
I didn't move for several seconds, my pulse throbbing loudly in my ears. The house felt colder now. Heavier. Like something unseen had slipped inside unnoticed and was breathing in the shadows.
My phone buzzed again.
I flinched.
Another message.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
He doesn't know you saw it.
I swallowed hard. "Saw what?"
A reply appeared almost instantly.
But she knows.
My skin crawled.
"Who are you?" I whispered to the empty room.
My phone buzzed.
Leave the house.
I stared at the message, heart ricocheting between fear and disbelief.
They knew I was here.
They knew what I'd read.
They knew something about Jeremy.
Something about her.
A sudden thought struck me and for a moment, nausea curled deep in my stomach.
What if Verity wasn't dead inside this house?
What if she wasn't gone at all?
I spun toward the doorway as a faint creak echoed through the hall.
Something moved upstairs.
Light, slow steps.
Not Jeremy's heavier, confident stride.
Not a child's scamper.
Something else.
Something cautious.
Dragging.
Almost… watching.
I forced myself to breathe.
"Jeremy?" I called out, my voice trembling.
No answer.
The steps stopped.
Then
A whisper drifted down the staircase, threading its way through the dark like cold silk.
Not words.
Just… breath.
Soft.
Raspy.
Feminine.
The sound of someone standing just out of sight.
Listening.
I backed away until I hit the kitchen table. My hand brushed something and I grabbed it instinctively Jeremy's house keys, left beside a book of matches. Their metal jangled softly, too loud in the silence.
"Think," I whispered. "Think, think…"
Leave the house.
My phone buzzed again. I didn't dare look at it.
Instead, I moved toward the back door, trying to stay quiet. Every step felt like a betrayal of my own intentions like the house could sense I was trying to leave.
Just as I lifted my hand to the lock
A shadow glided across the hallway behind me.
I froze.
It wasn't human movement.
Too smooth.
Too silent.
Too tall.
I swallowed a scream and pressed my body flush against the door.
"Please," I whispered to no one. "Just let me go."
My fingers fumbled with the lock.
Metal clicked.
I turned the handle
And the overhead kitchen lights exploded in a burst of blinding white.
I screamed and dropped to the floor as glass rained down around me, tiny shards skittering across the tile like scattered bones.
Darkness swallowed the room again.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then
From the center of the kitchen floor, where the largest piece of glass had fallen, I heard it:
A single, sharp click.
Metal striking tile.
I blinked through the darkness. The emergency light above the pantry flickered weakly, casting a dim glow across the floor.
Revealing something lying among the broken glass.
My phone.
Face down.
Slowly… it buzzed.
And vibrated just enough to flip itself over.
The screen lit up, glowing faintly.
A final message waited for me.
One that made my entire body go cold.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
She's awake.