Ginny stepped right up, sniffing my pockets.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t have anything today.”
She licked my hand anyway and leaned into me, asking to be petted. I stroked her enormous chest. It was like she knew. Like she could feel my pain. Maybe she wanted to show that she was here for me too, just like I had been there for her when the whole neighborhood called her the beast and ran from her.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” I mumbled to her.
Mr. Warner gently pulled her back. He nodded once and kept walking.
Inside, I locked the door behind me and hung up my coat. I tried not to look in the hallway mirror. But I did anyway.
My brown hair looked like an oily bird’s nest. My eyes looked tired and stared back at me like they had had enough of life itself.
God. I’d lost weight too. And I looked dirty. Absolutely homeless.
But even though a shower sounded amazing, it felt like more than I could handle right now. It would require energy I didn’t have. And even bending down to take off my shoes was asking too much.
Somehow, the shoes came off, and I forced myself up the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last. God, I was so, so tired. And what if something else happened today? Like Dylan showing up again. Would I just keep putting off basic hygiene forever?
So I forced myself.
I turned on the shower and got in. Then I just stood there under the stream. My legs felt weak, so I sank to the shower floor, sitting there while the hot water ran down my back.
I washed my hair and body, but now getting out felt so trying. Was this what burnout felt like? Depression?
I sat under the water until it slowly turned cold. Then I got out, dried off, and dressed slowly, like a zombie.
I made my way into the kitchen to get a quick bite. Crackers and cheese. Just enough to keep me alive for today.
After that, I walked to the bedroom. I wanted a real bed tonight. Sheets. Pillows. Something that felt normal.
It was barely late afternoon, but exhaustion already suffocated me.
I turned the TV on for background noise. I just couldn’t stop thinking about Lacey and the kids. The same loop, over and over again.
Some crime documentary came on. Something about a crazy neighbor. I left it playing. Maybe watching someone crazier than me would make me feel less alone. Less unhinged.
But the moment I slid under the covers, my eyelids grew heavy. They shut on their own, and the voices from the TV blurred.
Everything faded.
Then darkness.
And deep sleep.
Chapter 31
Nicole
The noise of a soft scrape woke me.
It must have still been late. The house was pitch black except for the logo of the TV streaming service glowing on the screen.
I stayed still. Listened. Waiting for another sound. When nothing came, I turned my face into the pillow and closed my eyes again.
Then the hallway stairs creaked.
That sound. I’d heard it a million times before. A footstep pressing against the old wood of an old house.
