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He leaves without another word, and I spend the next hour in the hot spray of the shower, contemplating what I’m even doing here.

Something that feels bigger than me, bigger than everything, tells me to stay, to try to get through to them. For what purpose, I can’t fathom.

An hour later, and after a donut and coffee to revive me, along with a cocktail of four ibuprofen, I’m trudging down the stairs to the basement. Finding it was more complicated than I thought because Stanley wouldn’t give up the entrance.

I wound up in a few closets and bathrooms before I finally found a door with stairs leading downward.

The soft sound of the piano drifts up the stairs and covers my footsteps.

I’m thankful because I meant for my arrival to be a surprise, so I can catch him unaware and get a look at whatever it is he’s hiding.

I’m getting sick of this place and all its bumps in the night and secrets.

Hand on the door handle, I take a steadying breath before pushing inside the room. “Lucien, I was wondering if we could talk,” I blurt, stepping into the dark space where only screens around a computer illuminate the room, along with a bar light attached to the middle screen, its multi-colored lights swirling against the wall.

The piano music continues from somewhere in the room, but no one’s inside.

I sigh, walk around, and look the place over.

The bed is plush and tall, like him. It’s carefully made, Stanley most likely.

It sits on the far left, right behind the desk, which, judging by the many camera angles he’s been watching, I’d venture to guess that’s where he spends most of his time.

I lean over the back of his computer chair and spot Kyrin in the kitchen where I left him, scrolling on his phone.

Elias is in the pool, swimming lap after lap, and a devious part of me wonders if it’s because of our near-encounter this morning that he’s working off so much tension.

Stanley’s in a small room, shining candlesticks like we’re in a 1900s film.

I feel him before I can react, and I’m pinned to the chair.

“Calamity,” he says. “What are you doing down here?”

“I came to talk to you about something.”

His famed move has me pressed back into the hard lines of his body. His hand’s on my stomach, pressing into it tightly. “Then speak.”

My breath shakes. I’d been so confident when I marched down here, but his energy has a way of shifting mine off balance. “Elias said you’ve been touching me in my sleep.”

“Mm. This is accurate. Do you not like me touching you?” His hand leaves my stomach and brushes along the side of my neck. I mewl, softly angling my head to allow his touch to deepen, permitting him. “Because when I touch you, it doesn’t seem as though you dislike it. Even now, you give me more space to play.”

Oh, dear God.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I thought it was strange. I’m sleeping, and I can’t consent…”

“You consent by ceasing your screaming. This house is too plagued by its own ghosts to have you adding to the chaos.”

“Is that why you call me calamity?” I breathe, his hand’s movements rendering me breathless.

“Partly.”

“And the other part?”

“Because you’re going to topple this place down around us.”

“What? That’s absurd! No, I won’t—“ My speech is cut off by the wrapping of his hand around my throat.

“You will, but we’ll like it. Don’t you worry about it for a second.”