Chapter 3: Curiosity

Rainy’s POV

The hair on my arms stand up. I have goosebumps as I whip my head around to look behind me. It is almost as if there is another presence with me, but the street is empty.

A sudden gust of wind rustles through the canopy of leaves above me, making me jump and pick up my pace. It’s not as if these two little dogs can do anything to protect me if I am being followed. I feel a chill, and I’m eager to be home in my warm cozy robe.

My senses are tingling, but honestly, the street is silent apart from me and the dogs. I have always been a little paranoid about being alone after dark ever since mother told me the legend of the Wendigo eating human flesh. Thanks, mom.

I am really starting to question some of the things I was raised to believe. Witches, full moons, werewolves, shapeshifters. I always fell asleep to mom’s fantastic stories about growing up in Castleberg as a little girl. But they were just that. Stories. Silly, really.

Why do I suddenly feel so convinced that the house I just saw is meant to be mine? Whose voice was that in my ear? I can’t help but fantasize that it’s Bron, the version of him that exists in my dreams. Maybe he is walking beside me. Maybe he is just a beautiful ghost. I sure hope not.

I cannot help but come up with a million different stories about who the figure in the window was. I felt him looking at me. I am not sure if it was with disdain or not, after all, I was walking two yappy dogs by his property.

Logic tells me that he was just trying to sleep and maybe we disturbed him. But my nagging heart says otherwise. It has romantic fantasies. Dreams about shopping sprees. About doing things I have never been able to do. But they’re just dreams.

It was the full moon last night, maybe the man in the window is a lonely werewolf hiding away from the world so that he can protect everyone from himself, like in a bedtime story.

Maybe he was longing for love, and upon hearing the dogs bark, he felt a little bit less lonely for just a second. Howling woefully at the moon, all alone.

Maybe he is a true Alpha, and howls for his Luna.

I am so lost in my imagination that I almost trip on a small box in the middle of the sidewalk. What the f*ck is this doing here? Is this even real, or just a part of my fantastic imagination?

I bend to pick up the silver box, its glittery texture feels scratchy in my hand.

And inside the box, I see a small roll of paper. I gingerly untie the pink satin ribbon tied around the rolled-up paper, and something heavy falls out and makes a tinkling sound as it bounces against the pavement below then hits my toe. “Ouch!”

I pick it up. It’s another skeleton key. But this one is much, much larger and heavier in my hand than the one Sylvia gave us for the apartment. Weird. What is it doing here?

I unroll the little sheet of parchment inside the box. And as I read what is written there, my heart begins to pound uncontrollably. I feel faint. Sweat forms just above my upper lip. The entire sidewalk begins to spin.

I’ve got two leashes attached to one wrist, and the dogs are pulling and jumping. My ears ache. I can’t think clearly.

My name is there. Written on the paper. What the hell?

If I wasn’t feeling creeped out before, now I can feel my heartbeat in my entire body as if I am just one giant heart beating there alone in the darkness under a streetlight. The hand that holds the key and the note throbs.

I pick up both of the dogs and run down the hill, running for our lives toward home. I wish I had brought my phone. So stupid.

As I run, a lump forms in my throat, and I am ready to cry. The wind seems to chase me, the leaves catching up to me.

Approaching the brownstone at full speed, I hear a woman’s voice calling out to me from across the street. “Hey! Are you ok?” It is Veronica, the waitress from the café, shouting to me as she unlocks her shiny black BMW.

“Fine!” I shout as I open the front door, letting it slam behind me, and quickly turn the deadbolt to lock it.

But I am not fine. I am scared out of my mind.

“How was the walk?” Cass asks with a concerned tone, cocking her head to one side.

I am still reeling from my run down the hill, panting, trying to catch my breath. I cannot decide whether to tell Cass about my strange experience or to just let it go.

I have to get the dogs back over to Sylvia, so I decide not to go into any detail at this moment. Besides, I am not sure if Cass would get it. I am still not sure if I even get it. I need time to process.

“Hey Cass, get your shoes on. You’re walking with us to Sylvia’s.” If Cass notices my breathless state and that I keep looking out the window, then she says nothing as she puts her shoes on and follows me out the door.

Upon our arrival at her cute house with the white picket fence, little round windows like a ship, and red door, Sylvia greets us with a steaming hot pot of tea.

“I knew you were coming. Have a seat. Cassandra, did you tell me that you were a bartender? Because my best friend’s ex-husband has spent a fortune buying a rooftop bar to compensate for the divorce.”

“Omg! Yes, I am! I would be so excited to have a job lined up here this quickly, thanks Sylvia,” Cass gushes, her blue eyes lighting up.

When we get home, I decide that I have to go online and find out who the owner of my – the house with the wolf statues is.

Why did that voice distinctly tell me that this house was mine? Who’s voice was it? I need to find out.