I didn't remember leaving the office.
All I knew was that suddenly I was halfway down the staircase, fingers digging into the polished banister so hard my knuckles ached. My breaths came too fast, sharp and shallow, scraping the inside of my throat like glass.
The foyer blurred below me the tall iron chandelier, the massive front door, the antique console table with the silver-framed photos of Jeremy and Amelia smiling, alive, frozen in a life that no longer existed.
My vision tunneled.
My legs shook.
My ears still echoed with that whisper.
Don't leave me alone with him.
I pressed a hand to my forehead. "Get it together, Evelyn. You're not losing your mind. You're just… under pressure."
But the whisper clung to me like cold breath.
And the worst part was how real it felt. Not like a memory. Not like imagination.
Like someone had leaned in close enough to feel their lips brush my ear.
I reached the bottom of the stairs and forced myself to slow down. The house seemed too quiet. Too still. As if everything inside it was waiting.
Waiting for what, I didn't know.
Jeremy's voice drifted from the kitchen. "Evelyn?"
I startled so hard the keys in my hand clattered to the floor.
He stepped into the doorway, brow furrowed. "Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, I forced a weak smile. "Just overwhelmed. Long flight. Dusty office."
His expression softened. He took a step closer, concern etched into the lines around his eyes. "You don't have to start working today. Honestly, I shouldn't have pushed. You can take time. Adjust. Rest."
Rest.
As if anyone could rest in this house.
But I nodded anyway. "That might be a good idea."
Jeremy reached down and picked up my keys, placing them gently in my hand. "You're shaking."
"Just hungry," I lied.
He studied me for a second longer, as if some instinct whispered that I wasn't telling the whole truth. But he let it go, offering me a faint smile.
"Well. There's soup on the stove if you want it. I'll give you some space."
He turned to leave, then hesitated.
"Evelyn?" he said quietly.
"Yes?"
"If the office is too much… you don't have to work in there. Not right away."
Something flickered in his eyes pain, maybe. Or fear.
Fear of what?
Fear of the room?
Fear of the manuscript?
Fear of Verity?
I wanted to ask, but the words lodged in my throat like stones. "Thanks," I murmured.
He nodded once and disappeared down the hall.
I headed toward the kitchen mechanically, my steps unsteady. The air felt thick, almost damp, like the house was exhaling slowly around me.
The kitchen was warm, lit by under-cabinet lights that cast a soft glow over marble counter tops. A pot of soup simmered gently on the stove.
Normal. Safe. Human.
I leaned against the counter and shut my eyes, letting the mundane warmth anchor me.
But the image of the manuscript wouldn't leave me.
The ink forming on its own.
The shadow in the room.
The whisper against my ear.
Help.
Don't leave me alone with him.
I opened my eyes, chest tightening. "This is not happening," I whispered.
And then
A sudden, faint tap tapped against the kitchen window.
I stiffened.
The tapping came again. Measured. Delicate. Like nails lightly dragging across glass.
I turned slowly.
Through the window darkness. Just the outline of the garden, swallowed by night.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Something was out there.
Watching.
I took a step toward the window.
The tapping stopped.
Silence.
Then as if answering the question rising in my mind a shape shifted in the darkness. Something pale moved behind the glass, too fast to fully see. A blur. A suggestion.
I inhaled sharply, every nerve sparking.
My phone buzzed abruptly on the counter, shattering the moment. I flinched so hard I knocked over a spoon.
The screen lit up with a notification.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
Stop reading.
My blood froze.
Before I could react, another message appeared.
You don't understand what she did.
My fingers trembled violently as a third message popped up.
And what he's still hiding.
The phone screen dimmed.
The kitchen went still.
I swallowed hard, heart thundering so loudly it drowned out everything else.
And then
Another tap sounded on the window.
Much closer.
Much louder.
Almost like a warning.