Insane or not

Insane or not
The rain had slowed to a mist by the time Mia finished her meal. She sat hunched on the couch of Jackie’s modest living room, her thin fingers gripping the edge of the blanket Jackie had given her. Her eyes were swollen, though whether from exhaustion or from all the tears she had shed in the past week, it was impossible to tell.
“Thank you, Miss Jackie,” Mia said softly, her voice rasping from disuse. “You’ve done enough for me. You gave me food, shelter. But… I can’t keep staying here. Archie’s locked away. It’s safe now. I should go.”
Jackie crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, her gaze firm but gentle. “Safe?” she echoed, almost laughing. “Don’t fool yourself, Mia. The streets aren’t safe, and you’re not safe. Not yet.”
Mia looked away, ashamed. “But if I stay… if Archie ever gets out, what if he comes here? What if he finds me? I don’t want to bring danger to your doorstep.”
Jackie’s eyes narrowed. “Then let me tell you something.”
She stepped closer, crouched down, and pulled a small drawer open beside the couch. From it, she retrieved a sleek black pistol. She held it steady in her hands, her finger brushing over the trigger guard with practiced familiarity.
“I’m not afraid of men like Archie,” Jackie said coldly. “If he dares to come here, I’ll put him down before he even breathes your name.”
Mia’s breath caught, her wide eyes fixed on the weapon. She had always known Jackie was tough, a woman who had learned to survive in this city’s filth, but to see her like this—steel in her eyes, death in her hand—made her both relieved and uneasy.
Before Mia could speak, Jackie’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the caller ID and frowned. “It’s the precinct.”
She picked it up. “Yes?”
A man’s voice, rough and tired, filled the line. “Miss Jackie, I’m calling about Archie Rivas. The case against him—rape, battery, all of it—yes, we know Mia filed it. But the state’s decision came today. He was released.”
Jackie’s blood ran cold. “Released? What the hell are you saying? He’s a monster.”
“Not released into society,” the officer clarified quickly. “They found him insane. The court says he wasn’t in control of his actions. He’ll be moved to St. Augustine Mental Hospital under supervision.”
Jackie’s knuckles whitened around the phone. “So what—you mean to tell me the man who stalked Mia, hurt her, nearly destroyed her, is just being shuffled off like a broken doll?”
The officer sighed. “I don’t make the rules. He’s not free. The hospital will keep him secured. She’s safe.”
Jackie turned toward Mia, who was trembling now, her lips parted as though she wanted to scream but couldn’t find her voice. “You hear that?” Jackie said, trying to sound steady. “Archie’s being taken to a hospital. He won’t—”
“NO!” Mia suddenly shrieked, her voice breaking. She bolted upright, her blanket tumbling to the floor. Her finger shot toward the door. “He’s here! He’s at the door! I saw him—I saw him peek through the crack!”
Jackie’s stomach flipped. The words froze her in place.
She turned her head slowly, her heart hammering, and stared at the front door. It was closed, the lock still bolted. But Mia’s terror was real—her eyes wide, her breathing frantic, her whole body shaking.
Jackie pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Officer, did you hear that? Mia swears she just saw Archie outside my door.”
On the other end, the officer cursed softly. “That’s impossible. He’s supposed to be in custody, waiting for transfer. I’ll check right now—see if there’s been an escape. Stay inside. Don’t open the door for anyone.”
Jackie ended the call with trembling hands, her pulse roaring in her ears. She reached for Mia, gripping her shoulders. “Mia, look at me. Are you certain? Did you really see him?”
Mia nodded violently, tears spilling down her face. “His eyes. I know those eyes. He looked right at me.”
Jackie’s stomach twisted with dread. She grabbed her gun, clicking off the safety. Her instincts screamed to trust Mia’s fear. Archie wasn’t a man who vanished quietly—he was a storm that found cracks and slipped through.
“Stay behind me,” Jackie whispered.
The two women crept closer to the door, their bare feet silent on the wooden floorboards. The only sound was Mia’s soft, ragged breathing and the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
Jackie pressed her ear against the door. Nothing. No footsteps. No voices. Only silence.
She took a deep breath, her finger brushing the trigger.
But then—
Scratch.
A sound so faint, yet unmistakable. The slow drag of a nail against wood. Right on the other side of the door.
Mia let out a strangled sob. Jackie’s eyes widened.
“Archie,” she whispered, the name tasting like poison.
The scratching stopped. Silence again.
And then—
Knock. Knock.
Two deliberate taps, light but chilling.
Jackie raised her gun, pointing it at the door. “If you’re out there, Archie, you’re already a dead man,” she hissed.
But there was no answer. Only the rain outside, falling harder now, hammering against the roof like impatient fists.
Mia clutched Jackie’s arm, her voice breaking. “He’s playing with us. Just like before. He’s watching, waiting.”
Jackie tightened her grip on the gun, her mind racing. The police said he was in custody. But what if he’d escaped? What if he’d come straight here, knowing Mia was hiding under her roof?
The minutes crawled by, each second stretching longer than the last. Finally, Jackie forced herself to step back. “We don’t open it. We wait for the police. Understand?”
Mia nodded weakly, though her eyes stayed locked on the door as if Archie might materialize through it at any moment.
The phone rang again, making both women jump. Jackie snatched it up.
“Miss Jackie,” the officer’s voice returned, breathless this time, urgent. “We checked. Archie’s gone. He escaped during transfer. The hospital didn’t even realize until now. He could be anywhere.”
Jackie’s grip on the phone slackened. Her mouth went dry. Slowly, her gaze shifted back to the door.
Because in that moment, from beneath it, a shadow spread—long, crooked fingers sliding across the floor.