“Shh, shh…” I soothed Henry, rubbing his back. “It’s okay, now, baby. She’s gone.”
Sweet Jesus…wasthatthe woman he’d seen? Was she the one that scared him?
“I don’t like her, Mama,” he hiccupped.
“I don’t either,” I whispered, still shaky. “You’re sleeping in here tonight.”
“Is she coming back?” he asked, his voice small.
“No,” I promised. “Not tonight.”
“But what if she does?”
I held him tighter and rocked gently. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll stay awake to make sure you’re safe.”
I jerked awake, instantly feeling guilty for falling asleep after promising to stay awake. But my guilt quickly morphed into confusion. Instead of being in my bedroom with the door locked, Henry and I were back in his room, sitting on the bed in the exact same positions we’d been in before the woman appeared.
What the hell…?
“Henry,” I whispered, gently shaking him. “Henry, baby. Time to wake up.”
He stretched and blinked up at me then rubbed his eyes. “Is it time to go to Mamaw June’s?”
“No, not yet,” I told him. “Are you okay?”
He sat up and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You sure?” I pressed. “That was pretty scary.”
He frowned in confusion. “But it was okay when you kept me company. I wasn’t scared anymore.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “What about the woman in the wall? The one who came out of the closet?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, yes, ma’am. She’s scary!”
“I know,” I said carefully. “I saw her last night. Don’t you remember?”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
My mind raced, reviewing everything from last night. Had Idreamedit? Was that why we were here in Henry’s room? Because we’d never left it?
I forced a smile, brushing his curls off his forehead. “Nothing. I guess I was confused. How about we get you ready for Ms. June’s since we’re already awake?”
While Henry watched his cartoons in the living room, I stood in the shower, letting the water run over me, hiding the tears that slid down my cheeks as silent sobs shook my shoulders.
The dream—if it was a dream—had felt so real, so terrifying. The woman in the wall. The crawling. The stench. Now it made me question the other dreams I’d had about Dawes House, Susanna… Was any of it true? Were they memories? Or nightmares built from fear and fragments of history? What about the other encounters? Were they real? Hallucinations? Had I lost the ability to tell the difference between fiction and reality?
If so, where did that leave everything? The family I’d found here—the first I’d really ever known? Was I planning to run from the only people who truly seemed to care about me, about my son, because of my overactive imagination? Had Vivian been right all along? Was this all something I’d created in my mind? Or the influence of something dark and sinister that Vivian sensed before I ever did?
And what about Whit?
Was my impression of things accurate? Or was that just my imagination as well? I couldn’t deny I was falling hard for him. Had already. But was it genuine? Could I trust any of what I felt for him? Or was I just infatuated with the idea of him, of someone who actually treated me kindly and made me feel safe for the first time in my life?
A tentative knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. “Cartoons are over, Mama!”
I wiped my face quickly and smoothed my wet hair back. “I’m almost finished, baby! Go ahead and get dressed!”
My eyes were still swollen and red when I dropped Henry off to June an hour later, but she had the grace not to comment.
