Easton and I haul our bags toward the farmhouse, Bronwyn trailing behind us. She complains the entire way, her voice a low drone I try to block out.
It’s even easier to dismiss her when I focus on the farmhouse and the two smaller houses beside it. Up close, the details match the photos from the website. Weathered siding, warped from heat and years of neglect, yet still standing, refusing to collapse.
One house in particular catches my eye. The one I’ve seen with the tarp that’s tacked on as an extension, sagging like a makeshift tent.
Something about it calls to me, pulling me closer.
So that’s what I do, breaking from my group and edging toward it.
The first thing that hits me is how much more pungent the smell is up close.
As awful as it is, I’m not deterred.
He’scalling me. Without words, without ever seeing him, he’s telling me to come to his home.
The lights are off in the house I’m drawn to, but I just know he’s there, wide awake.
Thatknowingis what terrifies me the most.
Up until this evening, my life has been ruled by science and facts. Notions, premonitions…I never believed in those. I never thought I’d feel an invisible collar around my throat, tugging me forward on an invisible leash.
I do now, as my feet carry me toward his door. The air thickens as I get closer.
My duffel is heavy on my shoulder, the charm warm against my skin.
As my hand curls into a fist, ready to knock on the oversized door, I catch myself.
What does he even want with me?
He could drag me into his darkness.
And I might like it.
On the off chance I don’t… Well, I can always scream. Bronwyn and Easton won’t leave me to die here, no matter how upset Bronwyn is with me.
It’s decided then.
I’m going to knock.
I’m going to meet him.
“Farmhouse is over here, girl.” Ma’s voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. “Not there. That’s off-limits.”
My stomach drops as if I’ve been caught stealing. Technically, I got caught snooping, which is just as bad.
“Sorry.” The magnetic pull toward the wrong house is stronger than my shame, clinging to me as I turn around. “I was curious about the…” Don’t say a word about the charm. “Livestock.”
“Cows and goats? You’ve seen one, even in a picture, you’ve seen them all.” She waits for me under her dimly lit porch, jerking her chin toward the open door. Everyone else is already inside. “Let’s go.”
One last glance at the dark windows, one last hope that he’ll come for me.
Please.
My heart crumples at the blaring silence.
“Come on,” Ma chides from inside the house, and reluctantly, I rush over.
The air shifts the second I step past the door and into their living room. There’s a faint apple pie scent here, and a tang of bleach.
