Ghosted by Accident 3

Chapter 3: The Unseen Truth

Jake's morning felt like every other day, and the excitement from his friends' pranks had dulled into routine. After managing to keep his cool in the ball pit incident, his thoughts drifted back to his part-time job at Calm Horizons. It was a strange gig. He wasn't entirely sure what the company did, but the steady paycheck was enough for him not to ask too many questions. Plus, they didn't require him to show up every day, which was perfect for balancing his psychology coursework.

The University of Chicago had strict rules about student work hours, and Jake's schedule allowed him to only work around three days a week. His professors were tough, and his workload was no joke, so this setup worked well. He'd pop into the office on random afternoons after class or over weekends when needed. The company wasn't flooded with clients daily, so it wasn't like he had to be on call constantly.

Today, however, Jake had some free time between classes. He grabbed his backpack and made his way to Calm Horizons. The office was located in a modest building, nothing flashy—a small plaque near the door read "Emotional Counseling and Support Services." It was professional enough to blend into the urban surroundings, but still low-key, keeping its operations fairly discreet.

As Jake entered the office, he saw that it wasn't particularly busy. A few of the other employees were around, chatting at their desks or making calls. Some of them were seasoned veterans of the company, people who had worked here for years and, from what Jake had gathered, handled hundreds of cases. These senior employees were often assigned to the more complex and time-consuming jobs, and they didn't seem to pay much attention to Jake, likely assuming he was still new and learning the ropes.

Jake approached the front desk, where Beth, one of the administrators, greeted him with a smile. "Hey, Jake. Looks like you're free this afternoon?"

"Yeah, I've got a couple of hours before my next class. Anything you need help with?"

Beth tapped a few keys on her computer. "Actually, there's a small case today, nothing major. It's a routine call—a client in the suburbs has been feeling uneasy in her home. She's experiencing some anxiety and feels like there's something off in her house. Could be mold, bad wiring, or something psychological. You're available to check it out?"

Jake nodded. "Sure. What's the address?"

Beth handed him a file. "Here you go. It's a pretty straightforward case. Just assess the situation, provide some comfort, and let her know if we need to follow up with a more in-depth investigation."

Jake glanced at the file. The client's name was Mrs. Evelyn Grace, an elderly woman who had recently moved into her late sister's old house. She reported strange noises at night, a general feeling of unease, and a suspicion that she might be seeing things out of the corner of her eye. Jake assumed it was just anxiety from moving into a new place after her sister's death.

Beth continued, "Remember, you're not expected to solve anything major. Just offer reassurance and, if necessary, recommend that she seek further counseling. Your job is to provide emotional support, not to diagnose anything."

Jake grinned. "Got it. Emotional support is my specialty."

---

Jake took the subway to the suburban area where Mrs. Grace lived, still unsure about what to expect. On the train, his thoughts drifted back to his salary. For part-time work, Calm Horizons paid decently—about $18 an hour. It was enough to cover his rent, groceries, and occasional nights out with friends. He wasn't rolling in cash, but for a college student, it was better than working at a fast-food joint.

As he approached Mrs. Grace's house, a small, ivy-covered Victorian home, Jake felt a strange chill. He shook it off as nerves. 'It's probably just an old house,' he reassured himself, pushing the gate open and walking up the steps.

He knocked on the door, and after a brief moment, it opened slowly. Mrs. Grace stood there, her silver hair neatly tied back, her expression weary but warm. "You must be from Calm Horizons," she said softly.

Jake smiled. "That's right. I'm Jake. I'm here to talk to you about what's been going on and see if there's anything we can do to help."

Mrs. Grace nodded and led him inside. The house was cozy but had an odd, musty smell that Jake assumed came from the old wooden floors. The air felt heavy, but again, he chalked it up to the age of the home and the emotional baggage that might come with it.

As they sat down in the living room, Mrs. Grace began to explain the strange occurrences. "It's mostly at night," she said. "I hear footsteps in the hallway, even though I live alone. And sometimes, when I'm sitting in the kitchen, I feel like someone is watching me. But there's no one there."

Jake listened, nodding thoughtfully. He had heard similar stories before during his training sessions with the company. People often misinterpreted natural sounds in old houses as something more sinister, especially when they were feeling emotionally vulnerable. He reassured Mrs. Grace, using the calming techniques he'd been taught, advising her to keep a journal of the occurrences to track any patterns.

"Most of the time, these things have logical explanations," Jake said. "Old houses creak, especially when the temperature changes. And with everything you've been through recently, it's normal to feel a little unsettled. But if things continue, we can schedule another visit to take a deeper look."

Mrs. Grace seemed comforted by his words, though she still looked a bit troubled. "Thank you, Jake. I know it probably sounds silly."

"Not at all," Jake replied. "That's what we're here for—to help you feel more comfortable in your own home."

---

On his way back to the office, Jake couldn't shake the feeling that something about Mrs. Grace's case was a bit off. Sure, it was likely just anxiety from her recent loss, but there was an unusual tension in the house. Maybe it was just the old Victorian atmosphere getting to him.

As he entered the office, Winchester Mann, the boss of Calm Horizons, was sitting behind his desk, going over files. He glanced up as Jake walked in.

"How did the case go?" Winchester asked.

Jake shrugged. "Pretty straightforward. The client's experiencing anxiety after moving into her late sister's house. Old building, strange noises, the usual stuff. I gave her some advice on how to manage the feelings, but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary."

Winchester leaned back, studying Jake carefully. "Good work. You've got a knack for this, you know."

Jake smiled. "Thanks. It's just listening, really."

Winchester nodded but didn't say anything more. As Jake headed out of the office, he noticed a flicker of something in Winchester's eyes—an interest or curiosity, maybe. It was as if Winchester knew there was more to Jake's role than even Jake himself realized.

For now, though, Jake was content with just doing his job and making it through another week of college. But there was something brewing at Calm Horizons, something he was still completely unaware of.