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I took the drink, cold in my hand. The label peeled up at the corner. My hands shook so I gripped the can tighter. I felt Alice’s eyes on me.

The conversation got weird after that. Landon asked about work, about neighbors. Brandon made up stories. He talked about me like I was a child. Like I was fragile, incapable. “She needs someone to watch her. She gets, you know, anxious.”

I sat there, letting him talk for me.

Alice watched me the whole time. I tried to act okay. To smile and nod, and laugh when it was expected. But the fear never left. The anxiety gnawed at my bones. Every word, every movement, he was waiting for me to fuck up.

The rest of it blurred together. Alice hugged me again before she left. And suddenly, I was alone with the beast again.

I let myself sit still and waited for Brandon to yell, or hit me. He didn’t, though. He walked over and kissed me on the cheek. “You did good, babe. Maybe I can trust you after all.”

My lips lifted into a smile. “Thank you, Brandon. You can trust me, I won’t do anything bad again.”

He ruffled my hair. “Good girl. I’m just looking out for you.”

No, you’re only thinking about yourself. It’s all you do. I wanted to say it out loud, but I knew I shouldn’t.

He finally left me alone in the bedroom. I settled down onto the bed and yawned. I was still so exhausted. No amount of sleep could cure it.

I was about to turn off the lamp when I saw something standing outside of the window. A figure. It was cloaked in the darkness of nightfall, but it was there.

I stood and peered closer. The build of the body looked like a man. He was standing by the tree looking up at me. His head tilted when he noticed me watching.

That head tilt…it felt familiar. I thought about the familiarity for a moment, then it hit me. Underneath the moonlight, I could just barely make out the head. I couldn’t see his face because there was a mask over his features. Not a regular mask though. It looked like a scarecrow mask. Just simple burlap, the creepy horror-like kind. Two holes where the eyes should be and a stitched mouth.

Could it be? I blinked, and he was gone.

Chapter 30

Come Back, Bluebird

Malakar

My little bluebird fluttered out of my grasp. I had to get her back. I had to. I had to. She was there, in my arms, so close, then she was gone. Somebody took my bluebird away. I was going to get her back, no matter what it took.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. She was mine. I made her mine. And then, in the space of a breath, she was wrenched away. Like a bone torn out of flesh, like a scream ripped from a throat. They took her from me. He took her from me.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Brandon. That man who took her. Silly man, he didn’t cover up his tracks. He was easy to find, and when I found him, I found her too.

I saw his hands on her, like stains. She wouldn’t fight. She’d learned, somewhere along the way, that fighting only made it worse. I understood her fear. I cradled it in my own hands, nursed it against my chest, until it became my ache too.

I clung to the outside. I watched for hours, and hours, until my fingers went numb against the brick. She was in there, my little bluebird. I had to take her, I had to have her. She belonged to me. I loved her first, I always loved her. I just wanted her to be happy with me. I could make her happy.

But I waited. Stillness is a trick. If you stand still long enough, you disappear. I was always good at that.

I lost track of how many nights I returned. Three, maybe four. Each time the urge got stronger. Each time I pressed closer to the skin of the building, breathing the same air she breathed. She was in there. My bluebird. I could nearly taste her.

I needed her. I needed her back. Something inside me screamed for her, louder than anything I remembered. I thought I knew what obsession was. This was more. This chewed the marrow out of my bones.

Come back, bluebird. Come back and sing for me.

Was she thinking about me? Did she miss me the way I missed her? Did she dream of me, or was it all nightmares now?

Night swallowed me as I moved. The door was easy. Locks are just small intentions, and I break intentions for fun. Inside, I was careful, always careful.

I found her room by memory. I followed the scent—her hair, her skin. Traces of her drifted around me, like a ghost. She was curled on her side, hands tucked against her chest, knees clamped together. A mess of black hair spilled over her cheek. Eyelids fluttered, restless. Even asleep, she looked afraid.