I made the character move, to look at the watchers straight on. “Just when you think things can’t get worse, they can. But they can also get better.”
Was that cheesy? I looked at Jules. “What is going on withGhosts?”
“I sent it, actually just yesterday, to a contest that could get it made in a small theater. Anyway, not likely I’ll win, but I’m trying. I meant to tell you yesterday but ” —he smirked at me— “I got distracted.” My cheeks heated up and not because of the fever. “Let me ask you, because I have wondered and now I need to know, why did you start writing? How did you start making your stream?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I needed something. I was so lonely. My aunt had called me the poor relation when she spoke to my aunt Tricia on the phone. I heard that. I had just moved to Chicago. I didn’t know anyone. I was watching streamed videos, and I thought… well, I could do that. I could try to do that. And no one would have to know. I just thought it was for me. No one else. I didn’t expect anyone to actually watch.”
“But they did.” Julian nodded. “I hate your family.”
“Me too,” Jeremy said as he walked in the room carrying soup. “You are both creating. That’s a good sign. I hope. For Alatheia. But if you need to sleep, do that. Eric said rest is the most important thing.”
I nodded. “I will. I promise. Who took care of you when you were sick? All the years you lived without your parents.”
He shrugged. “Guess it is a good thing we don’t get sick very much. But, Barrett is actually not a bad caretaker. He would hand us cold meds. And Eric would show up when we needed him. I don’t know. It’s not like…”
A sound banged downstairs. Jer turned toward the door. “That has to be Barrett and Phoenix. But…” His voice trailed off. Instead of finishing his thought, he walked to the doorway and stared down.
Nerves assaulted me and I rubbed my arms. What was happening here? It was just Barrett and Phoenix, right? Except why weren’t they coming up the stairs? No way they wouldn’t come here to see me straight away. I knew that because they all spoiled me with that kind of love. And Phoenix would want to apologize for last night.
Julian rose and Jer whirled around, his finger against his mouth in the universal sign for quiet. His twin nodded and then stared at me. I mimicked his head movement. I got it too. This wasn’t Phoenix and Barrett. And whatever was happeningor whoever the twins thought was down there had them very concerned.
Jules grabbed his phone and sent a group text to his brothers and me.
Someone in the house.
My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing in my ears as if it might give me away. I wasn’t even sure what was happening yet, but I knew that they were scared and that made it even worse in my head. The twins didn’t get scared. I’d never seen it. Jeremy eased the bedroom door shut, his face pale, eyes wide but his jaw set and determined. There was a lot going on in his head right then. Julian didn’t say a word, just jerked his chin toward the closet. I understood—hide, now.
I moved as quietly as I could, though the effort sent a spike of pain through my head and made my throat burn worse than it already was. This would have been bad enough if I hadn’t been sick. I shivered. Jeremy helped me up, one hand pressed warm and steady at my elbow. My legs were heavy, feverish—more so than before—and I wished for the thousandth time that I was well—strong, not whatever this was that was happening to me in the worst possible time.
Julian slid open the closet door and motioned us in. He followed, phone clutched in one hand, his other fist balled so tightly his knuckles gleamed. Jeremy pressed himself behind the coats, trying not to breathe too loudly. I crouched on a pile of shoes, biting the inside of my cheek to suppress a cough. My breaths came shallow and ragged. I pressed my sleeve to my nose, willing myself quiet. Now was not the time to have a coughing fit. Not at all. Seriously. It would be very fucking bad.
The phone lit up. I didn’t have mine, but I saw Barrett’s name pop up on Jules’. He was answering us. I hoped they would stay away. Whatever this was I didn’t want them either walking inunaware—which fortunately Jules had prevented—or charging in if Jeremy thought we were in this much danger.
Julian answered Barrett. I saw the wordsnot good.
We had hidden in a closet before. Well, no Jules hadn’t. When Jeremy, Phoenix ,and I had hidden in a closet to steal my birth certificate folder, Jules had stayed downstairs and distracted the doormen by talking about sports. I caught Jeremy’s gaze as he stared at the closet door. What would they do if someone came in here?
Downstairs, footsteps paused, slow and deliberate. This house creaked. We were lucky or they’d have gotten us completely with no warning. Whoever it was. I mean… was someone trying to just get out of the snow? Someone was moving through the house, not in a hurry, but searching. The silence in the closet was thick, stifling—punctuated only by Julian’s thumb flicking across his phone, typing updates to Barrett and Phoenix.
Was the person in the house a stranger, or someone worse? I squeezed my eyes shut, head pounding, and tried to listen for anything that would explain what was happening. Why hadn’t I grabbed my phone? I could at least know what Jules knew. And whoever this was didn’t give a shit that we might be here in the house. That was really even more concerning. Nothing to lose…
A floorboard creaked beneath weight, much nearer than before. They were coming up the stairs. Julian’s hand gripped mine, tight and reassuring. I swallowed my anxiety, or I pretended to, wishing I could disappear, wishing we could all be safe. But wishing had never solved any of my problems. Not ever. The footsteps climbed the stairs, slow—one, then another—each step heavy with menace.
Or maybe not. Maybe I was overthinking this. This was a friendly neighbor who had come to see if we had survived the snowstorm okay. I had to stop questioning myself. If I thoughtthat something was wrong, scary, then it was. I wasn’t making up my concerns and clearly the twins thought this was bad too.
“I know that you are in the house.” A male voice sounded. It was scratchy, rough, like the person had either been shouting or had smoked too many cigarettes in his life. “And if you’re hiding, then you are smarter than you used to be and certainly smarter than your parents.” He laughed, the last words slurring together. “I’ve been watching the house for days now. I know at least two of you are here.”
Okay. Okay. What did we learn? He knew them. He watched the house. Smarter than they used to be?
Jeremy winced. Why was I not surprised he knew who this was? He was fast. Incredibly intelligent.
Julian texted on his phone. Maybe he knew who it was too. Or he was just telling the other two that this person who wanted to hurt us—and I was sure that he did—was in the fucking room with us.
A door slammed downstairs and a shout sounded.
“Alright, Daryl, you piece of shit. You get away from my family.” That was Rosalind. Their mother was here? The twins looked less surprised than I felt . Daryl stormed out of the room and Jeremy grabbed the closet door, pulling me out with him when he did.
Julian rushed past us and locked the bedroom door behind Daryl and then the bathroom door. There was shouting downstairs.
