A monster.
“Thank you.”I pay the taxi driver and wheel my case down the drive to my small two-bed semi-detached on the outskirts of the city. A quiet area where the most exciting thing that happens on the street is bin day. Just how I like it, but tonight, something feels off.
From the corner of my eye, a shadow flits past the neighbour’s hedge. I stop, still as a statue. My head jerks in that direction, but when I turn, there’s nothing. Just leaves rustling in the wind. Still, my pulse kicks up.
I shake it off and keep walking. It’s just my imagination after seeing D’Angelo today. The wheels of my case bump over the paving slabs. I wave my hand in front of the sensor when the porch light doesn’t automatically turn on like it always does. My stomach twists.
“Come on…” I mutter, waving again until it finally flickers to life. Another thing I need to fix around here. I glance around quickly, shadows stretch long across the lawn, clawing towards the house like dark fingers, as if trying to reach for me.
Hairs prickle on the back of my neck, and an uneasy shiver runs the length of my spine. My heart rate accelerates as I dare to scan my surroundings one more time. Uneasiness manifests in my stomach. I fumble with my keys and let out a sigh when the correct one slides into the keyhole and turns to unlock my front door.
“Meow.”My cat, Sir-Pounce-A-Lot, lands at my feet.
“For goodness’ sake.” I let out a long breath and relax my shoulders as I scoop my big black cat into my arm and carry him over the threshold, wheeling my case behind me.
I let out a shaky laugh, stroking his thick fur. The smell of home—the faint scent of jasmine from the plug-in diffuser—grounds me. “You had me on edge. I thought someone was watching me.” Another laugh escapes, but after the day I’ve had, it seems not all my ghosts are laid to rest. But it’s not Dan I’m worried about. If Magnus has found us…No, don’t go there.He can’t hurt me anymore.
I hug my cat close to my chest, his warmth soothing. “There’s a reason we call you Sir-Pounce-A-Lot.” I kiss his black fur and set him down near his feeding mat in the kitchen, where he waits for me to give him fresh food and water.
“There you go,” I murmur, scratching behind his ears as he munches. “You’ve probably been fed by the entire street again.” I smile, picturing him making the rounds with his mournful eyes and soft paws. “You little con artist.”
I slip off my shoes in the hallway and notice a picture askew on the console table. Angelos and me at his award ceremony at school a few years ago. I smile as I look at my son’s picture. He's always resembled my brother Elio, but now I see so much of his father in him.
Guilt climbs up my throat, threatening to spill out of mymouth, but I swallow it down. I shouldn’t feel guilt after everything I’ve endured to keep my son alive and my family safe. I shouldn’t have this gaping hole in my chest, and I certainly shouldn’t be longing for a man I have every reason to hate.
Lifting the frame, I use my sleeve to rub a smudge on the edge of the glass. I don’t recall this being here before. I always wipe the frames when I dust. Someone’s been here. Mrs. Aranda has a key. Sir-Pounce-A-Lot’s probably knocked the frame over and she’s put it back. That must be it.
I place the photo back into position and shrug off my jacket as I pad upstairs. My body breaks out in goose bumps. I’m being ridiculous. The doors are locked. The cat’s fine. It’s just been a long, emotional day.
Dropping on the bed, I sink into the mattress and text Elio.
How’s Mamma doing?
Much better. She perked up after seeing you.
Warmth spreads in my chest as I call my son.
“Hey, Mum.” Music plays in the background.
“Hi, how did today go?”
“Fine,” he shouts over the music.
“Where are you?”
“There’s a band playing in the main hall.” The music gets quieter and I hear a door close. “Is that better?”
“Are there chaperones?”
“Mum, I’m in school. You don’t need to worry.”
“I always worry. I think I’ll still worry about you when you’re fifty.” If I’m still alive by then.
“Mum, that’s so cringe.”
“Mums are meant to be cringe.” A smile pushes my cheeks up. “Tell me all about your football match.”
“I scored. We won 5–1.” His voice turns animated as he tells me all about the goals.
