Chapter 66: Shadows Next Door

Chapter 66: Shadows Next Door
By mid-afternoon, the Wright house had calmed again. The detective was gone, but the ripple he left behind stayed in the room, quiet and persistent.

Melissa sat by the window now, her head leaning against the frame, eyes half-focused on the driveway. She wasn’t looking for anything specific—just watching the day move forward because it had to.

Her phone buzzed in her lap.

It was her father.

“Hello, Dad,” she answered softly.

Mr. Wright’s voice came through, slightly muffled by poor reception, but steady enough.

“I just landed,” he said. “Are you okay?”

Melissa pressed her lips together. “Yeah… we talked to Detective Philip this morning. I told him everything I could.”

Her father exhaled on the other end of the line. “That’s good. I’m proud of you, Mel.”

There was a pause before he spoke again. “How’s your mom?”

Melissa glanced toward the living room where Mrs. Wright sat quietly with Victor, both of them scrolling through their phones in silence. Her mom wasn’t crying, but her face had that tired, watchful look—the one she wore when she was holding too much inside.

“She’s alright,” Melissa replied. “Tired.”

“I figured.”

There was a brief moment of shared silence.

“I’ll call again tonight,” Mr. Wright said. “If anything else comes up, let me know.”

“I will.”

When the call ended, Melissa placed the phone on the windowsill and stared outside again. The air was still. The day was too normal for how strange life felt right now.

Around four in the afternoon, Dennis arrived at the Wrights’ house to pick up Lydia and Julia.

Victor had offered to drive them home earlier, but Lydia politely declined, saying Dennis was already on his way. She had texted him as soon as the detective left, and now he stood by the door with his car keys in hand, waiting patiently.

“I could’ve dropped you,” Victor reminded her as he helped Julia carry her overnight bag to the front door.

“I know,” Lydia said, smiling faintly. “But Dennis was already halfway here when I texted him.”

Mrs. Wright came to the door too, her eyes soft but concerned.

“Are you sure you girls don’t want to stay one more night?” she asked, looking from Lydia to Julia.

Lydia shook her head. “Thank you, ma, but we should go. We’ve been here since Saturday, and Mom and Dad don't even know we're home. The house has been untidy since they travelled. We need to clean up because they will be back next week.”

Mrs. Wright sighed, her hand resting briefly on Lydia’s arm. “Alright. But if you need anything—anything—you know where we are.”

“I know, ma,” Lydia replied, managing a small smile.

Dennis stood patiently by his car as the girls said their goodbyes.

Melissa hugged Lydia tightly at the door. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” Lydia whispered back.

Julia hugged Mrs. Wright before running toward Dennis’ car. Lydia followed, giving one last wave before she slid into the passenger seat.

Victor stood by the door, watching until the car pulled away.

When Dennis dropped Lydia and Julia at their house, the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky. The neighbourhood was quiet—just the distant hum of a lawn mower a few houses down, and a couple of kids riding bikes in the street.

“I’ll call you later,” Dennis said as Lydia stepped out of the car.

“Okay,” she replied, pulling Julia’s small bag from the backseat.

Dennis leaned across the passenger side. “And hey, if anything feels off… tell me.”

Lydia nodded. “I will.”

He gave her a brief smile before driving off toward his own house, leaving the girls to head inside.

Next door to Lydia’s house, fifteen-year-old Kieran stood by his bedroom window, watching as Dennis’ car pulled away. His eyes drifted back toward the side of Lydia’s house.

That’s when he noticed it again.

A figure in black. Standing too close to the fence. Motionless.

Kieran’s chest tightened.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this person.

Three times now—once late last week, again on Friday night, and now today. Always the same: black hoodie, hood up, face hard to make out from a distance.

Kieran backed away from the window, his heart racing. He grabbed his phone but stopped himself from texting Lydia. Instead, he walked quickly downstairs to the living room where his father, Mr. Halden, was sitting on the couch reading the news on his tablet.

“Dad?” Kieran said, his voice a little shaky.

Mr. Halden looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s someone by Lydia’s fence again,” Kieran whispered.

His father’s eyes narrowed.

“Again?” he repeated.

Kieran nodded. “Yeah. Same person as before. Hoodie. All black.”

Mr. Halden set his tablet down and stood.

“I saw him the other day too,” he admitted. “I thought he was just some kid passing through, but now…”

Kieran followed his father to the window.

By the time they looked again, the figure had moved back toward the edge of the street, walking slowly away but not in a hurry. Almost like he wanted to be noticed but didn’t care enough to stop.

“I told him off once already,” Mr. Halden muttered, eyes narrowing. “But it looks like he’s still hanging around.”

“Should we call the police?” Kieran asked, his voice low.

Mr. Halden sighed. “Not yet. But we’ll keep an eye on it.”

He placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder.

“If you see him again, you come straight to me.”

“Okay,” Kieran whispered.

Inside Lydia’s house, she and Julia unpacked quietly.

Julia headed straight for her room, pulling out her sketchpad like nothing was wrong. Lydia sat on her bed, staring at her phone again. No new messages. No alerts.

But her stomach stayed tight, like something was shifting beneath the surface.

Her mind replayed Melissa’s words from earlier.

“I don’t know who to expect anymore. Or who to suspect.”

Lydia rubbed her temples.

Neither did she.

Back at the Wrights’ house, the evening settled in.

Melissa was back by the window, her eyes soft but focused this time. Her phone sat nearby, but she wasn’t reaching for it.

Mrs. Wright stood in the living room—not in the kitchen—folding a blanket that had fallen off the couch. Her movements were slow, thoughtful.

Victor sat nearby, his laptop open but untouched.

The air was calmer than it had been the day before, but no one mistook it for peace. It was more like waiting.

Mrs. Wright glanced at her children and let out a quiet breath.

She didn’t say it aloud, but she wondered the same thing Melissa had wondered earlier that morning:

What comes next?