chapter 3

his isn't how I imagined I'dspend my Friday night. Digging

This is stupid. I'm stupid.

wasn't a reason?

around in the walls of an old-ass house with god knows what

my fingers buzz with the need to reach out. To just look inside the

The second I heard the doorhit Greyson's ass on the way out, I

T

to pull away, a deep vibration travels through my bones. The tips of

It feels like a magnet is pulling me towards it. And every time I try

keep it fed.

fathomless void and find what is calling my name.

due to so manyyears being trapped in the walls, nothing but bugs to

I couldn't get mine stuffed tonight, I might as well get my action this

pause was therather large gap between the two walls. At least three

inspected the damage. It's not a massive hole, but what gave me

I'm justwaiting for a rabid squirrel to jump up and latch onto my

flashlight held tightly in my grip. There is just enough space to fit my

outstretched arm, driven mad with hunger and willing to eat anything

way.

arm and part of my head in at an odd angle to look around.

or four feet of space. And why else would it be built this way if there

The webs are too thick to see much, so I use my phone like a baton

the other direction and point the light down the other side. Nothing.

My armis shoulder-deep in the goddamn hole Greyson created, a

The flashlight on my phone reveals wooden beams, thick

kind of creatures trapped inside.

Now here I am, bent over and stuffing myself in a hole. Suppose if

cobwebs, dust, and bug carcasses on the inside of the wall. I turn

and start tearing down some of them. I swear if I drop it, I'll be pissed.There will be no getting it back

sitting inthe basket. She smiles wide, and even though the picture is

I wince from the feel of the hair-like webs brushing across my skin,

first place.

turning around, my eyes sweeping the empty hallway.

imitating the sensation of bugs crawling on me. I turn back towards

Excitement burns in my lungs as my fingers drift over the dial.

My teeth chatter, and I think I even see my breath puff out of my

ignore the siren call that got me into this dumbass situation in the

I've discovered a treasure. And I suppose I have Greysonto thank

and I'll have to get a new one.

my hair.

Ow.

Grabbing a picture frame, I unhook it from its nail and gently set it

put on her red lipstick before she'd put on the coffee.

for that. Though I'd like to think I would've taken these pictures down

Ignoring the dull throbbing in the back of my head, I rip my arm out

my great-grandmother sitting on a retro bike, a bundle of sunflowers

I bat down a couple more cobwebs, ready to just give up and

turning my blood into ice. The sudden freezing temperature has me

my head off the thick drywall and sending flakes tumbling down in

I'm staring at the safe as a cold breeze washes across my body,

saw the mysterious object.

I pull the picture from the wall and stifle a gasp when I see an army

on my extremely questionable decisions.

A little way down the hall is something glinting off the light. Just the

and rush down the hallway, guesstimating the distance on where I

down. I do this several moretimes until I come across a picture of

barest hint, but it's enough for me to jump in excitement, knocking

green safe in front of me. It's old, with a mere dial for the lock.

black and white, I know she's wearing red lipstick. Nana said she'd

the left and shine the light one more time.

eventually for the sake of no longer having my ancestors look down

There.

mouth. And just as quickly as it came, it dissipates. Slowly, my bodywarms up to a normal temperature, but the chill down my spine

Focus, Addie.

value.

surprised to find none, considering that's what most people use

Dazed, I walk to my bedroom, close the door behind me and settle

standing there.

flashlight again, I find three brown leather-bound books inside. No

I hadn't been hoping for those things honestly, but I'm still

I'm unable to tear my eyes away from the empty space, waiting for

my way into the safe. Theold thing is pretty shitty in terms of

safes for.

diaries? They have to be.

toolbox collecting dust in the garage.

trail my fingers over the inscription on the first book.

grab the tools I need, run back up the stairs, and proceed to force

expect anyone to find it. At least not in their lifetime.

and google how to break open a safe. After finding several forums

smashed finger later, I finally crack the sucker open. Using my

lingers.

The space was never used for cars, even when Nana owned the

Several failed attempts, bouts of frustrated groaning, and a

Genevieve Matilda Parsons.

picture concealing the safe, notorious for her red lipstick and bright

I reach in and grab the journals, reveling in the feel of the buttery

My great-grandmother—Nana's mother. The very woman in the

house. Instead, generations of junk collected here, consisting mainly

smile. Nana always said she went by the name Gigi.

that list a step-by-step process, I run off towards my grandfather's

protection, butI suppose whoever hid this box here didn't actually

soft leather under my fingertips. A smile breaks across my face as I

something to happen but as the minutes tick by, I end up just

of my grandfather's tools andsome odds and ends from the house. I

money. No jewels. Nothing of value really—at least notmonetary

A quick look at the other two books reveals the same name. Her

Gently setting the picture down, I decide to brush off the weird chill

down on my bed, legs crossed. A leather cord is wrapped aroundeach book, holding them closed. The outside world fades as I grab

Blinking my eyes open, I stare at my closed door, focusing on the

several seconds later that I realize the sound I heardwas the

She died before I was born, but I grew up hearing countless

Someone was just inside my house.

sharp tongue from her mother. I wonder if Nana ever knew about the

The sound could have been anything. It could have been the

A thump from below wakes me out of a restless sleep. It feels like

the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

A cloud of unease rolls in the pit of my stomach, and it'snot until

each book to ensure I'm starting from the beginning.

each entry.

well ahead of me, the muscle beating inside my chest rapidly while

being ripped from a deep, persistent fog that lingers in the recess of

coursing through my system now, and I'm wide awake.

my brain.

imagine these diaries have all sorts of stories to show me. Smiling, I

And then I stay up all night reading, growing more disturbed by

the first journal, carefully unwrap the cord, and open the book.

It isa diary. Every page has an entry written in a feminine script.

trademark lipstick kiss.

faint outline until my brain catches up with what I heard. My heart is

Slowly, I sit upand slide out from under the covers. Adrenaline is

stories about her. Nana said she inherited her wild personality and

open the other two books and confirm the date on the first page of

diaries. If she's ever read them.

And atthe bottom of each page is my great-grandmother's

shutting of my front door.

If Genevieve Parsons is as wild as Nana said she was, then I

foundation settling. Or shit, even a couple of ghosts roughhousing.

But just like when your gut is telling you something bad is going tohappen—mine is telling me that someone was just in my fucking

from thenightstand and pad lightly over to the door. Slowly, I open it,

cringing at the loud creak that rings out.

shadow peopleresiding just beyond the light. And as I slowly make

The last thought has me gasping and turning around, though I

I need the Tin Man to oil the hinges on my door just as much as I

they're back.

They're right behind you.

bit too imaginative.

If they ever left at all.

house.

Was it the person that pounded on my door? It has to be, right? It's

beam of light and found someone lurking in my house that way. One

mile to the manor just to bang on the door and leave. And now

walls watching me as I pass by.

stupid girl, you're about to get murdered.

my waytowards the staircase, I feel eyes from the pictures lining the

Better than the alternative.

too much of a coincidence to have a stranger deliberately trek over a

I would die on the spot if I was searching around with a single

burns my retinas.

appreciate it in this very moment.

A trait that works wonders for my career, but I don't fucking

need the Lion'sbravery. I'm shaking like a leaf, but I refuse to cower

Immediately, I turn on the lights, wincing from the brightness that

second no one is there, and the next second hello, there's my

puckering my skin into goosebumps. I shiver, nabbing my phone

the hallway just enough for my mind to play tricks on me and conjure

Watching me make yet another stupid mistake. As if they're saying

Flipping the switch on, the few working lights flicker, illuminating

know no one isactually behind me. My stupid fucking brain is a little

Forging on at a quicker pace, I make my way down the stairs.

and let someone walk around my house freely.

Shakily, I get up from my bed, a cold chill washing over me and

Watch your back.

murderer. No fucking thank you.When I don't find anyone in the living room or kitchen, I whip

save my fingers from being pricked.

sneaky.

I thoroughly check the main and second floor, but don't find

means that whoever left somehow managed to relock the door.

the kitchen, gunning straight for the knives.

Letting out a shaky breath, I pluck the flower from the countertop

it's shoved down their throat.

me and daring me to come closer. If I do, it'll surely eat me alive.

I don't like someone thinkingthey can just break into my home

I stare at the flower like it's a live tarantula, staring straight back at

but I don't care. I have no desire to hide.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I storm through the living room and into

But that notionis crazy. If someone is sneaking into my house at

making me feel vulnerable in my own house.

thorns, but I will gladly show them a rose is still fucking deadly when

But I catch a glimpse of something resting on the island out of my

And then to have the audacity to leave me a flower like a fucking

weirdo? They may have made that rose powerless by clipping its

Whoever is hiding in here will hear me coming from a mile away,

around and turn the knob on my front door. It's still locked, which

curse escapes my lips when I see a single red rose resting on the

Or they never actually left.

and roll it in my fingers. The thorns have been severed from the

Curling my fist, I crush the flower in the palm of my hand and throw

stem, and I get the strange inclination that it was done purposely to

it inthe trash, and then I resume my original mission. I rip open the

night and leaving me flowers, their intentions are the exact opposite

while I'm sleeping upstairs. And I especially don't like someone

I'm seething now.

peripheral, freezing me in place. My eyes jump to the item, and a

of virtuous. They're trying to scare me.

shut after selecting the largest knife. I'm too pissed to be quiet and

drawer, the silverware clanking loudly in the silence, and then slam it

countertop.

anyone waiting for me. It isn't until I'm at the end of the hallway onthe second floor, staring at the door that leads to the attic, that my

Sighing, I drag my feet back down to the kitchen to grab aglass of

The attic was where Nana would often retreat, spending her days

A feat that I apparently won't overcome tonight, either. I don't have

After the creepleft last night, I couldn't fall back asleep, so I went

the knife down. A thin layer of sweat dampens my forehead, and

when I lean over and rest itagainst the cold marble countertop, it

again.

up there knitting while humming a tune, several fans blowing at her

That I will find something terrifying if I do.

"Someone broke into my house last night," I confess, my phone

I'm frozen to the spot. Every time I try to force my feet forward,

sends chills throughout my body.

screaming at me to not go near that door.

feels like I have dumbbells for eyes, and my lids are in a losing

from every direction during the summertime. I swear I hear those

to go up there and look.

search comes to a screeching halt.

ceramic mug as I stir my coffee. I'm on my second cup, and it still

berating myself for not searching every single room in the manor, I

can't bring myself to move. Every single one of my instincts is

The person is gone, but my house isn't the only thing theyintruded

trapped between my ear and shoulder. The spoon clinks in the

tunes coming from the attic some days, but I can't ever bring myself

on tonight.

water. Ichug it in three swallows before refilling and emptying it

They're in my head now—just like they fucking wanted.

I slumpdown on the barstool in front of the island, finally setting

the courage to go up there. The adrenaline fumes are running out,

weightlifting battle.

and exhaustion is weighing heavily on my bones.

through the entire house, confirming all the windows were locked.Finding that they were unsettled me more. Every single door and

grand scheme of last night's fuckery, I suppose."

counter, already exhausted from the thought of it.

"That's not all that happened, though. Just the worst of it in the

after graduation, even after we both moved away to different

colleges. Our lives only allowed us to see each other for holidays

"Are you fucking serious?"

same night.

"I'm coming over today," Daya declares when I finish.

She's been my best friend since middle school. We kept incontact

her sordid love story and then someone breaking into my house the

looked, and no one was there. I'm assuming it was my new friend

that did it."

his dramatic exit. I don't mention the safe and the diaries I found, or

complaining about that just abit. Then his fist going into my wall and

what I read in them. I haven't processed it yet, or the irony in reading

shrieks.

I dropped out of college after a year and pursued my writing

locate a mysterious hole in my neck with his tongue when someone

pounded on my front door. And I mean, like hard. We went and

did they get in and out?

"What else happened?" she asks sharply.

I goon to explain the rest. Greyson's douchery—I got hung up on

"I have to clean out the house today to prepare for renovations," I

Silence. Never thought I'd see the day Daya Pierson is

speechless.

A smallsmile forms on my face. Daya has always been a great

and an annual haunted fair the past several years.

"I'll help then. We'll day drink to keep it interesting."

friend to me.

"Hold on, you said what? Someone brokeinto your house?" Daya

career, while Daya got a degree in Computer Science. Somehow,

"Well, Greyson is an asshole. He was in the middle of trying to

window had been locked before and after they left. So how the fuck

"Yep," I say. "They left a red rose on my countertop."

she wormed her way into some hacker group and is pretty much avigilante for the people, exposing the government's secrets to the

She's the biggest conspiracytheorist I've ever met, but even I can

me. I haven't finished reading the first book yet, and I'm nervous

admit that the shit she finds isdisturbing and has too much evidence

about continuing. With every passing word, I want to reject Gigi.

Regardless, both of our jobs allow us ample amounts of freedom

to be considered a theory anymore.

"I really appreciate that. I'll see you soon," I say before hanging up.

in our day-to-day life. We're luckier than most.

public.

I sigh and lookover at the diaries sitting on the island infront of

Almost as much as I want to be her.