Page 32 of To Obsess

I draw my eyebrows together in confusion as I take in the small, beaded turtle keychain lying on top of a card. I pick up the keychain, turning it over and over to inspect every inch before picking up the card.

The same white printer paper. Same light brown box, colored in by hand. Same uppercase print.

My heart skips a beat as the breath catches in my lungs. He was here. Again. I open the card with shaky hands, ignoring the doodles scrawled across the front.

VIOLET,

I HEARD YOUR kEYCHAIN MET ITS END. YOU SEEMED SAD. HOPE THIS HELPS.

ETERNALLY YOURS,

-K

I drop the keychain to the floor, scrambling to get back inside the house. The door slams shut behind me with a thud. I turn the lock and race to the living room to find my phone. My heart is hammering in my chest so hard it’s painful, but I keep pushing until I have Abby’s number pulled up, ready to dial.

But I pause.

“What in the actual hell would I even tell her?” I say out loud to the empty house. Or, at least, I hope it’s an empty house.

I look around, taking a quick inventory of everything in my field of vision. Nothing seems out of place as far as I can tell. I don’t think he’s been back inside. If he has, he’s been careful to leave everything exactly where it belongs.

I scrub a hand down my face, then shake the towel out of my hair, letting it thud to the floor. I rake my fingernails across my scalp until I’m on the edge of pain, doing my best to reel in my emotions a bit. Losing my shit isn’t going to help this situation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. When did I even mention that stupid fucking keychain?” Lord, if anybody saw me right now, they’d think I’ve lost it, talking to myself in the middle of my empty house like that’s going to give me any answers.

I dial Abby’s number anyway, still not knowing exactly what I’m going to say but needing to have some sort of conversation about it. It rings for thirty seconds before going to voicemail. I hang up and hit call again.

Same thing.

I toss the phone on the couch after making sure the ringer is turned up in case she calls back.

I pace the floor, debating on how to proceed from here. I can’t call Mason. He would think I’m insane. Nobody else really knows about the birthday cards except my parents, and they don’t know anything about the newest additions. It hadn’t really seemed worth mentioning, but now it’s gone too far to casually bring it up.

When my phone finally rings, I snatch it up and slide my thumb across the screen. “It’s about damn time!” I scold into the speaker. “Listen, I really need to talk to you. Another card showed up at my house.”

“This is getting out of hand, babe. Whoever this dude is, he’s getting way too comfortable,” Abby says, not skipping a beat. We made our way past the small talk stage of our friendship well over a decade ago. No need to waste time when we could just jump right into what we need to say.

“You’re telling me! At least this one was outside though.”

“Back porch?”

“Yup.”

“Cameras?”

I let the silence stretch between us. I hadn’t told her I thought he’d been messing with the security system since I hadn’t had any proof of that so far. I still don’t have solid proof, but he has to be. There’s no other explanation for how the card got to the back porch, yet again, without any video evidence at all.

“Okay, so we have two major problems then. First, he’s gotten way too brave. He’s broken into your house at least once and left cards outside your house three times now. Second, he’s fucking with your cameras so who knows how many times he’s actually been there creeping around, and you’ve had absolutely no idea.” Her words hold next to no emotion, just the straight facts of my situation. Somehow, that makes it feel that much worse.

I press my knuckle against my left temple in a feeble attempt to ease some of the pressure that’s been building there for the last hour.

“Maybe you should come stay with me for a while,” she suggests hesitantly, though we both know that will never happen. As much as I love her, we could never live together, even for a short time. “Just until this can get sorted out. I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I soothe. “Besides, it’s not like he’s tried to hurt me or anything. All of the cards have been sweet.”

“So far.” Pause. Uncomfortable silence.

“Well, thank you for this super comforting conversation, Abby. I think I’ll go to bed for now and pray my stalker doesn’t come find me in the middle of the night,” I half joke. I can almost feel her glare through the phone.