While Danny drives us home, I keep asking questions; What happened back there? Why was Georgia screaming like that? Why did he freak out and tell Seth to cut? But he says I wouldn't like his answers, so he doesn't tell me.

Whatever that means.

The question that burns the brightest is for Georgia: Did she stage the attack, or whatever that was? But I can't ask her. She's in the back of the van huddled under a big moving blanket. When I left her, she was trembling beyond belief. Seth promised he'd keep an eye on her.

When Danny finally pulls up outside my house, the exhaustion kicks in. All the weight falls to my legs and I don't think I can step out of the van. I stay for a couple of minutes, just looking out of the window at the house. Then I feel his hand on my arm.

"Hey," he asks gently. "You okay?"

I nod, but I don't know if I mean it. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say to solidify the lie.

I open the door and step out. He doesn't follow me. I walk to the side door and slide it open. Georgia sits on the seat still wrapped in the blanket, her leg bouncing. She doesn't meet my gaze. I look at Seth and he gives me a sad smile.

"Goodnight, Georgia," I say softly. She doesn't respond, let alone move. "I'll text you."

Seth closes the door, and they drive off. I stay in the street and watch the van fade away, the pit in my stomach growing the further away it gets.

I practically drag my feet to the front door. As I reach for the knob, it's pulled away from me. It's yanked open from the other side. I snap my gaze up to see my sister standing there. Her face is shadowed from the kitchen lights behind her.

"Finally!" She exclaims. Her hand lands on my arm, and she drags me inside. "I've been waiting and waiting!"

Even with the minimal energy, I somehow laugh. "For what? Did you mistake me for your UberEats order again?"

Emma rolls her eyes. "No, I did not." She tries to stifle a grin, but she can't hold it in for longer than three seconds. "You're my uber-famous sister!"

My head pounds, but it could be the headache from the drive. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean this —" She shows me her phone, which has TikTok open. Through my semi-blurry vision, I see a grainy video of a girl with the back of her head to the camera. Beyond her is the figure of another girl. Seconds later, a white, translucent shape rushes at the girl farther away and she crashes into the wall. Then she begins to scream.

My jaw falls open, my heart thumping loudly in my ear. "No..." The feed was out. Seth said it was. How did it get online? And what was...that? I don't remember that.

When my eyes finally tear away from the looping video, Emma is grinning from ear-to-ear. "You're famous! Look!" She points to the view number in the corner. "Over four million views!"

I shake my head. I can't think. All of the blood has left my face, and my chest is right.

This isn't real. This isn't happening.

"Hey," I hear Emma say quietly. When I glance up, she looks at me with her angled doe eyes. "What's wrong?"

I almost answer, but I stop myself. I push past her and head for the hall. "I need to go to bed."

The entire trip down the hall, I feel her eyes on my back. Bailey barks in the living room, and he howls when I slam my bedroom door shut.

I lie in bed for a while — I don't know how long. All I know is that I've been staring up at the outdated popcorn ceiling, unable to fall asleep. I listen to nothing other than the restlessness of my heart, its unsteady beat in my ear. A while ago, I heard Emma walk past my door and go to her room. But after that, there's nothing.

Just me and my heart.

I throw myself on my side, clenching my eyes shut as I squeeze the corner of my pillow in my fist. Go to sleep! No matter how much I try to will myself, it doesn't work. The switch in my brain won't turn off.

Flipping onto my back again, I place my palm flat against my chest. As my chest rises and falls, I feel its beat. It's fast — faster than my normal resting rate. For a moment, concern flags in the back of my mind. I wonder if I need to go to the hospital or something. Fuck. I hate hospitals. I shut my eyes again and take deep breaths to slow my heart.

One...Two... One...Two...

I slowly breathe, and at some point, the counting stops.

The dark in front of my eyes fades, and I open my eyes. The room is dark still. I glance at the digital clock on my end table. It's well after four in the morning. I must have fallen asleep, even if it was for less than an hour.

The sheets stick to my skin despite being cold to the touch. I try to peel myself from the cotton sheets, but I pause when the floor outside my bedroom door creaks.

I turn my head. The door was closed when I went to bed, but now it's cracked. There's no light on in the hall and from what I can tell, no light from the kitchen or living room. After a few seconds, I hear it again.

"Emma?" I call out, but there's no reply. I don't even hear Bailey either. If he was out there, he wouldn't shy from making his presence known.

I swing my legs off the bed and make my way across the cold hardwood floor. I open the door all the way and peer out into the hall.

As I expected, it's dark and quiet. I move out into the hall and take two steps toward Emma's room. Her door is closed. She was probably in the bathroom or something.

I yawn and rub at my eyes. Well, I'm up now. I have work to get done today, so I might as well get the day started. I turn and head for the kitchen. Time to pour coffee into my veins. Stat.

I round into the kitchen and flick on the switch, which floods light into my eyes. Before I can take another step, I hear another creak behind me. Down the hall.

"Em?" I call out again, turning around. "Is that you?"

The light from the kitchen softly seeps down the hall but doesn't make it more than halfway. The very end of the hall near the bathroom is still pitch black. I blink and strain my eyes when I notice a figure in front of the bathroom.

"Emma?" I say louder. "What are you —" My voice cuts short when I realize the figure's shape doesn't match my sister's. Not in the slightest.

The figure is hunched and short, mainly because they're slouched in a chair. A wheelchair. The distinct shape of the back wheels is what catches my eye. The back of the chair faces me, but I can see the figure's head, and how their hair falls over their shoulders. When the figure twitches, a sharp chill goes down my spine.

That's... Oh my God.

"...Nana?" I barely whisper.

This can't be real. I reach up and rub at my eyes. They're still bleary and spotty from the lights. When I blink and look down the hall, whatever that was... is gone.

Current word count: 11,268