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“Sorry.”

“It’s emotionally damaging.”

“I take it back.”

“I’m still billing you,” he says as he heads for the stairs. At the top, he looks back. “If you need anything?—”

“I know,” I say softly.

He gives one sharp nod as he disappears. A moment later, I hear their voices downstairs. Low, but clearly arguing gently. The back door opens and closes, and I settle into the silence.

“I breathe through the light panic as I stand, gather the clothes Marley found, and walk to the bathroom.”

The shower does, in fact, scream. A high, ancient sound that might be the pipes or may be a ghost with a grievance.

I laugh under the spray, then cry again, quieter this time.

When I get out, my phone buzzes. My heart stops as I hope it isn’t Boat Shoe Judas.

But it’s Marley.

MARLEY

Alive?

Shower screamed but I survived.

MARLEY

Proud of you. Lock the door.

Yes, mom.

MARLEY

I’m cooler than your mom.

True.

MARLEY

I love you.

Love you too

A second later, Oliver texts.

OLIVER

Door.

I roll my eyes, walking downstairs to check the back door. I lock the deadbolt before trudging back up.

Locked.

OLIVER

Oven knobs.