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"You're unbelievable."

"Probably."

"You think because you're some kind of protector you can just walk back in?"

"No."

I hold her gaze.

"I think because something is happening that none of us understand, we need someone who knows how to investigate it."

That stops her. Because she knows I'm right. I hate that. She hates it more. Finally, she exhales.

"Fine."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Fine?"

"You're staying."

A pause.

"But you follow my rules."

I almost laugh.

"You have rules?"

"I have a lot of rules."

"Of course you do."

"And if you think you are going to disappear whenever things get difficult⁠—"

"I won't."

The answer comes immediately. Too immediately. She notices. So do I. She looks away.

"Good."

Downstairs, the lights flicker again. All three of us look toward the sound. This time, nobody pretends it's normal. Because we know better now.

I look at Carys. Then Morrow. Two people who should have no reason to be connected. Yet every instinct I possess says they are. I just don't know why. Not yet.

But whatever’s going on…

This is only the beginning.

7

CARYS

OCTOBER 20 ~ 11 DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

Ihave never liked sharing my space.

Not because I'm antisocial. Because solitude is predictable. People aren't.