I’m about to respond when a shape moves past one of the windows. A very large shape. “Esther, I think there’s a?—”
The shape appears in the yard, arms moving, approaching me. For a split second, I can make out broad shoulders, what might be a beard, and… Oh god, is he looking at me?
I back toward my house because he seems not to want me at his. Is he shooing me like I’m a raccoon? He keeps waving his arms until the irrational part of my city-girl brain freaks out. Huge. Mountain man. Lumberjack. Possible yeti.
In my haste to get into the Pierce house, I stumble. My phone flies from my hand, tumbling into the undergrowth somewhere behind me. I can hear Esther’s voice calling my name, crackly and distant and increasingly panicked.
“EVA? EVA? WHAT’S HAPPENING?”
I scramble after the phone, heart hammering, face burning with embarrassment even though nobody—I think—actually witnessed my freak-out. My fingers close around the case, and I yank it up, clods of dirt falling from the screen.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I gasp into the phone. “I just—there was a person. A really big person. Like a yeti or a lumberjack or?—”
“I’m calling the police!”
“No! Don’t! I’m fine, seriously. I just scared myself being creepy and spying on the neighbors?—”
A sound cuts through the air. A crash, maybe? Or a yell? It’s hard to tell over my own heavy breathing and Esther’s continued nagging.
I freeze, staring through the trees at the neighbor’s house. Did something just happen over there?
“Eva, where are you right now?” Esther sounds calmer, at least.
“I’m… I’m by the porch. Near the house I now own.” I back away slowly, clutching my phone with both hands. The screen has a crack running diagonally across it. Perfect. “I think I’ll head back to the car.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan.”
I walk around the other side of the house, noticing the foundation seems fine. There’s not even moss growing on it like there is at Eliza’s house. I can see the Thorne house from the front of mine. Nothing seems to be moving or amiss. Maybe I imagined the sound. Maybe I’m jumpy.
“I’m almost at the car,” I tell Esther, my voice steadier now. “I’ll figure out the next steps from the motel.”
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No, I’m okay. Really. I’m just… I’m going to go now.”
“Call me when you get to your hotel. I mean it, Eva.”
“I will. Love you.”
I end the call and shove the phone into my pocket, breaking into a jog. When I reach the battered sedan, I practically throw myself inside and lock all the doors. My hands are shaking as I grip the steering wheel, staring through the windshield at the house—my house—silhouetted against the fading light.
What the hell am I doing here?
I came to sign papers and sell. To be responsible and adult and deal with this inheritance the practical way. And I walked into a house alone, with unlocked doors and spotty cell reception.
I jab my finger at the car’s ignition button, and it hums to life, headlights snapping on in the fading light.
And that’s when I see the man crawling toward me, arm outstretched, dark-bearded face contorted.
2
Asher
My only neighbors are my sister and her husband. And they’re all the way down the hill on their farm, so it’s quiet up here.
I like quiet.
I lean back in my office chair. It’s expensive and ergonomic and highly recommended for programmers who work the sort of hours I put in. The cursor blinks at me, waiting. Outside my window, the late afternoon light slants through the trees that separate my property from the abandoned maple grove between my house and my sister’s.
