Kiara
I lay flat on my back, cocooned in a blanket that felt far too soft for how restless I was. The room was quiet, almost soothing—except my brain wouldn't let me have any peace.
New places always did this to me. The world falls asleep, but my thoughts come alive. Honestly, I expected nights like this. No surprise I couldn't sleep.
Then my phone buzzed gently against the mattress. I picked it up and saw a text from Quin.
I smiled, just a little, and texted her back. We planned to meet tomorrow. No way could I explain everything in a message, though. I mean, even thinking 'I'm staying in my therapist's mansion now' felt ridiculous.
Maybe Quin could talk me down from this. Or at least slap some sense into me. Because honestly—something about this house didn't feel safe. Even Alfred had warned me to stay sharp. To trust only a few people.
That made my chest go tight for a second. Alfred grew up like this? Never fully certain about his own home?
The way he moved—always confident, calm, a little intimidating. But now, I could spot the cracks he tried to hide. People smile differently when they're keeping secrets.
After a good hour just staring at nothing, I gave up on sleep.
A shower might help. I tossed the blanket away and swung my feet to the floor.
Right then, I heard it—a door closing. Not loud, but clear. The sound came from the hallway.
I froze. The only door closest mine that mattered was Mrs. Winters'. The one with the fancy biometric lock that always secured itself.
Which meant—
"It's Alfred," I muttered. "Of course it's Alfred. Probably just checking on her."
That made sense. Still, my heart was pounding faster than before.
I crept to my door and opened it quietly. The hallway lights glowed soft and strange, throwing long shadows on the walls.
And—God. I nearly screamed.
Dillon.
He was standing right in front of me. Just... still. I gasped and jerked back, slamming my door halfway shut behind me.
"Oh my God." My hand went straight to my chest. Panic, sharp and real, shot through me. He hadn't made a sound—hadn't even blinked. Just watched.
His eyes were empty, round and unmoving. The skeleton pajamas made him look like a ghost kid—straight out of a horror movie.
Pull it together, Kiara. He's a kid.
Exhaling, I crouched down, trying not to scare him.
"Hi, Dillon," I said, soft as I could manage.
Nothing. He stared.
"I'm Kiara," I tried again. "The new nurse."
Still nothing. Then, after a beat, in this flat, weirdly casual voice, he spoke.
"I hope you don't be like them."
The way he said it was so flat—no feeling at all. Like he was reading off a grocery list.
My eyebrows creased. "Like who? The other nurses?"
His eyes flickered for just a second.
"That's strange," he said quietly. "They asked the same thing."
A cold chill ran through me.
"What do you mean?"
But Dillon wasn't looking at me anymore. His eyes drifted past my shoulder.
I felt it before I turned. Someone was there.
Blake. Leaning at the far end of the hallway. Not moving, just watching.
Expression blank—no anger, no warmth, just that quiet stare.
Dillon slipped past me, brushing my arm just lightly before hurrying down the hallway.
He ignored Blake, didn't speak, didn't even look at him. He just kept going, vanished down the stairs.
Blake's eyes stayed on me. Calm. Steady. Then, he looked down—lower. My neck? My collarbone?
I straightened up, lifted my chin, and stared right back at him. If he wanted me to flinch, he'd have to wait.
A slow smirk crossed his lips. He turned and followed Dillon.
What the hell was that?
My pulse hammered. Both of them—the kid and the man—something was off. Dillon especially. He knew something.
And those words—I hope you don't be like them—felt more like a threat than a wish.
Suddenly remembering the door, I turned and went to Mrs. Winters' room.
I grabbed the handle and twisted. It was locked tight, just like Alfred had said. The lock needed a fingerprint—only the right ones.
So how'd the door close earlier? Was I imagining things? Or had Dillon been registered, too?
Alfred said he trusted him. My stomach knotted.
I slipped back into my own room and locked the door, double-checking just to be sure.
Blake.
Alfred warned me about him. Tonight, my instincts agreed.
Something was wrong in this house.
And I was now in the middle of it.