The door swung open—but it wasn't Daniel.
It was the wind.
Hard. Loud. Fast. The kind of wind that didn't wait for permission. It slammed into the walls, tossed the curtains, and carried in the scent of rain and something sharp—like burnt sugar and rust.
I gasped and clutched the blanket tighter.
Beside me, Caleb's muscles tensed. His eyes were on the door, wide, watching like something might crawl through. His breath came quick and deep against my ear.
That's when I saw it.
A red feather floated in—soft and slow—landing right at the foot of my bed.
Not from any bird I knew.
My chest tightened.
Caleb sat up, bare-chested, his skin warm where it brushed mine. He reached for the feather without speaking. His fingers shook just a little.
"It's wet," he muttered. "Smells like smoke."
I stared. My throat felt dry.
"It's a warning," I whispered.
He looked at me, brows pulled tight. "From who?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Because I didn't know.
But I felt it.
Someone had seen us.
Someone wanted to be seen.
My heart pounded harder than before. Not from fear—but from something worse.
Excitement.
Caleb's hand found mine beneath the blanket. Warm, strong, steady.
I should've pulled away.
I didn't.
Instead, I leaned in, until our faces were almost touching.
His breath hitched. So did mine.
My fingers moved on instinct, tracing the edge of his jaw. He didn't flinch. He leaned in.
Our lips met—slow, burning, unsure.
The kind of kiss that says, I'm scared too.
His hands slid up my back, under my hair, pulling me closer. My body moved without thinking, as if the fear and the danger had pushed every line we tried to keep apart. I pressed against him, our mouths tangled, my chest rising too fast. We kissed like we were trying to forget the world watching us. Like we were hiding from each other.
Until—
Click.
We froze.
That sound again.
The closet door.
It creaked.
No wind now.
No reason.
Caleb moved fast. He climbed off the bed and crossed the room, eyes locked on the door. He didn't speak. Just grabbed the metal flashlight off my desk—the one I didn't remember owning.
He yanked the door open.
Nothing.
No one.
Just the usual clothes. Some shoes. A basket of folded scarves.
But taped to the inside wall…
A Polaroid.
He peeled it off slowly. Held it up to the light. It was me from earlier. Sleeping. My gown twisted. One shoulder bare. The pendant shining on my chest.
"Jesus," he breathed. "When was this taken?"
I looked away. My stomach twisted.
"They're in the house," I said. "They never left."
Caleb stared at the photo longer than he should've. His eyes dropped to my collarbone, like he was matching the image to what was in front of him.
I pulled the blanket tighter again.
"Don't look at me like that," I whispered.
"I'm not," he said, voice low. "I'm just… worried."
Another gust of wind slammed the door shut behind him. The walls felt closer now like they were leaning in. Like they were listening.
I stood, ignoring how cold the floor felt under my feet. I reached for my phone, lying on the nightstand. The screen lit up without me touching it.
A message. No number. Just one sentence: "You taste like fear. I want more."
My blood ran cold. I showed it to Caleb.
He didn't speak but his jaw clenched hard.
"We need to check Daniel's office," I said. "He had cameras. A whole system."
Caleb hesitated. "You sure that's smart?"
"No," I said. "But it's real."
We hurried downstairs. I wrapped myself in the long sweater hanging by the stairs. Caleb followed close, every creak in the house making his shoulders jump.
The office door was open. The lights were off. The wind had knocked over a stack of folders on the desk. I flipped the lamp on.
Papers everywhere and in the middle of it was a black flash drive. Just sitting there. Waiting.
I plugged it into the screen Daniel kept locked in the drawer. Four camera feeds came up.
Bedroom.
Kitchen.
Backyard.
And the hallway outside my door.
I clicked the latest file. It was me tonight in bed. Tossing. Turning. Touching my neck.
The angle was not from the regular cam in the corner. This one was from the vent.
"Caleb…" I whispered.
His hands curled into fists.
He clicked on the next clip.
It was him on the stairs coming up to my room, pausing at my door. Just watching through the crack.
Then slowly opening it. Then he stopped the clip.
"That's not me," he said. I turned to look at him. He was pale now.
"What do you mean?" I asked
"I never opened your door like that," he said. "I swear. I knocked. You opened it."
"You sure?"
He looked at me, seriously. "Positive."
We stared at the screen and then something new popped up. A fifth feed. We hadn't clicked on it. It was from the attic.
I'd never seen a camera up there.
There was a chair and a person sitting in it. His Back to the camera.
Rocking.
Rocking.
Rocking.
Red feathers on the floor around him.
And in his hand… My bra. I gasped. That's when the person stood up. Still not turning.
They held up a Polaroid of me and Caleb in bed kissing tonight.
The screen went black. I jumped back.
Caleb's arm flew around me. "We're not staying here."
"Where do we go?"
"Anywhere but here."
We ran upstairs. I pulled open my closet to grab jeans and then I saw it. Taped inside the pocket of my jacket.
Another note: "Run if you want, but I always find what's mine."
I dropped it like it burned. Caleb picked it up. "We're leaving now."
But as we reached the front door it was wide open.
Rain blew in. A wet trail led inside. Footprints. Bare. Leading toward the stairs. Leading toward us.
We turned, and at the top of the stairs a figure stood. Not Daniel. Not Caleb. Too tall. Wearing dark clothes. No face. Just a red smile drawn across a white mask.
He tilted his head, then raised his hand. In it—a Polaroid. He dropped it and it floated down like a feather. Caleb caught it. We both stared. It was me kissing Caleb tonight.
We looked up and saw the camera blinking red above us. Watching. Still recording. Then— Crash.
The hallway light exploded.
We ducked.
I screamed.
The masked man was gone.
The stairs were empty.
Caleb grabbed my hand.
"We can't stay." But I was frozen because something had clicked in my mind. The smell on the feathers. The photos that came too fast. The way Daniel always said, "Smile for me, even when I'm not there."
"What if it's not just a stranger?" I
whispered.
"What if it's someone I loved?" Caleb looked at me. And for the first time I didn't trust anyone.