“I see,” he said slowly. “Are you staying in town?”
The back of my neck prickled. “I am.”
He nodded, lips curling. “I’m sure the Ramseys are taking good care of you.”
The prickle at the back of my neck turned into full-blown chills that trickled down my spine.
He must have noticed, because he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I only presume so because it’s the only real place to stay in town.”
Right. Of course. Heat spread across my chest at the fact that I’d accidentally given him the address of where I was staying. It wouldn’t matter, but I shouldn’t be answering any personalquestions anyways. I made a mental note to redirect as best I could when he did.
Before I responded, a sharp knock sounded on the metal door.
A deputy cracked it open, poking her head inside and waiting. My client looked almost disappointed. “Time already?” He sighed. “Ah, well. I look forward to our next meeting, Ms. Carpenter.”
I gathered my notes, forcing a polite smile. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to have prepared for next time?”
He stood as another officer joined the deputy to unlock the chain from the table, the rattle so loud I felt it in my teeth. My client’s eyes slid over me once more.
“Yes, actually,” he said, voice almost pleasant. “Tell Dr. Ramsey I miss our correspondence.”
Before I could ask what he meant, the deputies were already leading him out.
The door shut with a heavy metallic click, and I was alone again.
Ireturnedtothebed-and-breakfastafter leaving the jail. It felt strange to be back so early in the day, but I didn’t want to go to the library and work. I wasn’t sure what it was, but a deep ache in my bones was exhausting me. Maybe it was the fluorescent lights, or the sound of the chains rattling, or the way Mr. Anderson’s gaze roamed over me.
Whatever it was, I was drained. I hoped an hour of rest would help get me back on track so the day wasn’t an entire waste.
When I stepped inside, the air smelled faintly of coffee and baked goods. Raleigh was constantly in the kitchen, makingbreads and cookies and pastries. If I wasn’t careful, my clothes weren’t going to fit…if they ever showed up here. Raleigh was an amazing cook.
I stiffened when I caught sight of him in my peripheral.
Graham sat in one of the armchairs by the fire in the living room, a book open in his lap. He looked so at ease. My skin prickled at his proximity, but I ignored it—and him, like I always did if I ran into him. Without a word, I crossed through the entryway and climbed the stairs.
I stopped short as I opened the door to my room.
Several boxes were stacked neatly inside, off to the right. Relief flooded me so fast I almost laughed. My things had finally arrived. Thank God. I’d started to think they never would.
Too excited to wait, I dropped my bag and tore into them, pulling clothes from crinkled tissue paper and hanging them in the closet. I folded others into the dresser drawers. The clothes were familiar and smelling faintly like home. I could wear something different every day now if I wanted to.
I almost cried.
Reaching for the last box, I froze. A manila envelope was taped to the top, my name written across it in handwriting I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t Preston’s. It wasn’t my assistant’s either.
Confusion creased my forehead. I peeled it off carefully, my pulse thrumming as I turned it over in my hands.
I slipped a finger under the flap and opened it.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I found inside.
A single sheet of paper slid out—a scanned image of an old newspaper. My blood ran cold. I recognized it instantly. The local paper from my hometown. The headline had been burned into my brain since the day it was printed: “Local Man Charged in Attack on Sister.”
My hands began to shake. I didn’t read the article. I didn’t have to. I’d lived it.
A smaller note caught my attention, taped to the corner and scrawled in the same handwriting.
Have you always loved monsters?
