CHAPTER TWO: No Prints in the Mud
It rained that night.
Daisy had fallen asleep watching the tree again, her eyes finally closing sometime after midnight. Thunder had rumbled gently in the distance, like a deep voice muttering things too low to hear.
In the morning, the sky was pale grey, and everything outside looked soggy and soft. Water beaded on the window, and the grass below shimmered wet.
That's when Daisy had an idea.
She remembered where she had walked the day before—right up to the tree. It had rained after that. There should be footprints.
So, after breakfast, while her mother was distracted on another call, Daisy slipped on her sneakers and crept outside again.
The air was thick and cold. Drops clung to leaves and railings. Birds were quiet.
The path she took yesterday was still there—muddy and soft. She walked carefully across it again, staring down, watching her small shoes sink slightly into the dirt.
She reached the tree and stopped.
The doll, Mimi, was gone.
But that wasn't the scariest part.
She turned and looked at the ground.
Her footprints were gone.
Not the new ones—those were there, fresh and clear, leading to the tree.
But the ones she left yesterday?
Nowhere.
No marks. No crushed grass. Nothing. It was as if she had never walked there at all.
A chill ran through her.
She looked up at the tree. It seemed still.
But… the bark looked wetter than the rain should've made it. And darker. Like something had been breathing on it.
She backed away quickly, shoes squelching.
"Mom!" Daisy called the moment she came inside, wet and rattled.
Rose came around the corner fast, eyes wide. "Where were you?"
"I just… I went outside. To the tree—"
"You what?" Rose snapped.
Daisy froze.
"I told you not to go out without telling me! Why would you go near that tree? After everything I've done?" Her voice cracked, and for the first time, she looked more scared than angry.
Daisy's throat tightened. "But… it rained last night, and… and my footprints from yesterday—they're not there. I just wanted to check something. Why are you so mad?"
Rose covered her mouth, turned away.
"I've done everything to keep you safe," she said softly. "Everything."
Then, just as suddenly, she looked over her shoulder and forced a smile.
"It's fine," she said. "It's fine, baby. Just... let's stay in today, okay?"
Daisy nodded slowly.
That night, Daisy tried to sleep.
But her room felt too quiet.
Even with the door cracked open, and the hallway light spilling in, the shadows in her room felt heavier than usual. And every time she closed her eyes, she swore she could hear scraping. Like bark against glass.
Then came a knock at her door.
Soft. Two times.
"Daisy?" her mom called.
Daisy sat up. "Yeah?"
"Come sleep with me tonight."
Rose's voice was calm. But not normal.
Daisy stood and opened the door.
Her mom was standing there in her robe, arms open. She hugged Daisy tightly—too tightly.
And as she pulled her into the master bedroom, Daisy caught one last glimpse of the window behind her bed.
It was covered in mist, from the inside.
And right in the center, slowly fading...
Were five long branch-like smudges.
Like something had pressed against the glass.