Chapter 7

"So what are we going to do?" I turned to look at Dan, in fear of the person standing at my front door. "I don't know, what do you want me to do?" He seemed deep in thought as he stared straight at the silhouette. He seemed like he was deep in thought. "I don't know, but it seems like you have an idea."

The silhouette stood motionless just beyond the treeline, half-shadow, half-illusion. I couldn’t tell if it was facing us or watching the house. A ripple passed through the air, like heat rising from pavement, and then it was gone.

Not walked away.

Not hidden.

Gone.

Dan took a step forward, instinctively putting himself between me and the path. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “I did.” Neither of us moved for a moment. The silence that followed was unnatural—dense, like the world itself was holding its breath. The trees rustled again, but no wind touched my skin. I kept looking at every corner but there was no one in sight, the feeling I had in that moment told me the opposite.

“We’re not alone,” I said quietly. Dan’s eyes didn’t leave the place where the figure had been. “We were never alone, Em. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” My heart fluttered at the way he said my name gently, like I wasn’t just his contract bride or the woman who’d caught him in bed with someone else. Like I was… something more.

We moved toward the house, slowly, like we expected it to vanish too. Ridgewater loomed in front of us, tall and brittle, like it had held together for centuries just to witness this moment. Shutters banged softly in the breeze, though the air was still. The porch groaned before we even stepped on it.

The door had long since warped off its hinges. Or maybe it had never needed one to begin with. “I remember this porch,” I whispered, more to myself than Dan. “There used to be a rocking chair right there. It squeaked when my dad pushed it…”

“You’re sure this is the place?” he asked gently, glancing at the drawing folded in his pocket.

“No.” My voice trembled. “But my body is.” Dan reached the threshold first. His foot hovered over the step, but as soon as he touched it A low hum vibrated through the air. A sound that wasn’t a sound at all. Like something ancient clearing its throat.

Dan jolted back, nearly stumbling. “What the hell—” I stepped forward, heart pounding, and extended my hand toward the same spot. A gust of hot wind shoved me backward—not enough to knock me down, but enough to warn me. Something unseen had pushed me. Denied me.

“What was that?” I gasped. Dan steadied me, his arm around my waist. “It’s a barrier. A ward. Someone… or something… doesn’t want you going in there.”

“But it’s reacting to me,” I said. “It’s not blocking you—it’s warning me.”

Dan frowned, looking up at the windows. “Or testing you.” The wind had stilled, but the air was charged like the static before a storm. The house groaned again, louder this time, like it was trying to speak.

A sudden pressure bloomed in my chest. My hand burned—not painfully, but enough that I looked down. A faint glow traced across my palm, the same shimmer that appeared back at the crash.

Dan noticed. His voice was barely a whisper. “Your fire. It’s waking up again.”

“I didn’t summon it,” I said quickly, stepping away from the porch. “It just… reacted.”

“Or the house did.”

We stood there in silence. For the first time, Dan looked unsettled—not because of what was happening, but because of how little control he had over it.

“I don’t understand any of this,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “Why am I seeing things? Why can’t I remember the inside of the house? Why is it locked to me now?”

Dan watched me, his gaze softer than I’d ever seen. “Maybe it’s not locked to you. Maybe it’s locked for you. Until you’re ready.”

My throat tightened. “And when will that be?”

He didn’t answer because he didn’t know either.

Then we heard it.

Not footsteps.

Not words.

Laughter. A child’s laugh—distant, echoing through the trees, rising from the very bones of Ridgewater.

I turned sharply toward the sound, but again… there was no one. "Oh my god, this is getting creepy fast." Dan’s hand found mine, and this time, I didn’t pull away. “Let’s go,” he said quietly. “Not because we’re afraid. Because I think the house just told us we’re not ready. Yet.”As we walked back toward the car, I looked over my shoulder one last time.

The house sat there watching us.

And for the briefest moment… I felt something watching from within me, too.