After Luc left, I headed out too. I hated being in the shop on my own. Honestly, I hated being anywhere on my own, and keeping amongst the bustling people as I did errands—including a second successful attempt at picking up my paycheque—helped eased my mind. It was hard to feel alone in a crowd.

When I got back, I noticed that the drop covers had been pulled back from the furniture, folded up, and placed neatly in a corner. That could only mean one thing: Luc had come back.

"Luc?" I called, listening for any sound of him. The place was still and quiet, like I was the only person there.

Maybe he's just reading, I thought to myself as I strode through the room. Or having a nap.

On my way to the stairs, I peeked into the storage room to see if he was there.

I hated the back room. It was dank, and perpetually dark, windowless, lit only by a single weak light that dangled from the ceiling. It was more hall than a room, really. The walls were bare brick except for a single grimy sink shoved to one side... And the new pile of boxes in the corner opposite.

Where had those come from? I wondered. Curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped closer to get a better look—

The ceiling above me gave a creak.

A footstep?

I froze in place, remembering Luc; my gaze travelled upwards and I listened hard, waiting for more... I couldn't be sure. We hadn't lived here long enough for me to tell the difference between foot steps and the settling of an old building.

No other sound came. Settling it was, then.

Continuing on, I left the mystery of the boxes where they were and headed up the stairs. As I reached the upper landing, I called out again, "Luc?"

The door was ajar again. I pulled it open.

"Luc, are you here?"

There was no response.

I dropped my shopping on the counter and walked the length of the small room.mI glanced in the bedroom, and then the bathroom. No one was there.

It did look like someone had been here though. The bed was rumpled, like someone had sat on it, and there were a few books pulled out of the shelves and piled on the kitchen counter. There was even a glass next to them. I picked it up; it was still cold. As I put it down again, I noticed a sticky note nearby.

There was a message scribbled in Luc's hand.

Came back for a moment, but you were gone. Sorry to have missed you. I'll be back soon.

I stared at the sharp loops of his scrawl. Luc had come back. He had come back and I... I had fucking missed him. The note crumpled in my first. I cursed under my breath, then threw the little ball at the wall. It didn't even make a sound when it hit, just bounced off and rolled away.

I rubbed at my cheeks, banishing a few rogue tears. All I wanted was to stand still for a minute, one goddamn minute, and just talk. Talk honestly, without all these walls. Like we had before, when we were all we had to rely on... I was so sick of this dance we were doing, this bobbing and weaving around each other. Well, I wasn't going to dance anymore.

For a half second I wondered if he had sent me a text, before realizing I wouldn't be able to read it, thanks to my busted phone. Though... I mulled. I do have money now, I could just go and buy a new one—

My thoughts were interrupted by a strange pealing tone. It echoed through the apartment, metallic yet muffled. It was dull and droning, almost like an alarm. Did this place have an alarm system? I wondered. If it did, Luc had never mentioned anything about it. But then again there was a lot Luc never mentioned...

The sound came again. I realized that though it was muffled, it sounded like it was coming from nearby. I left the apartment, following the sound out into the stairwell, before it cut out. I lingered on the steps, waiting for it to come again. When it did, it was louder. Downstairs. I rushed down, trying to catch it.

It died again before I reached the foot of the stairs. I froze in place again, lying in wait, ready to pounce. It came again—from the storage room. I poked my head in, looking for the source. The pile of boxes still loomed in the corner. Maybe whatever was making that noise was inside.

I headed over, stopping right in front of the stack, waiting for the next ring to direct me—

The peal came again, sharper and shriller now. Only it came from behind.

I span around.

There, next to the grungy sink, was an ancient phone bolted to the brick. It was a mottled dull orange, so old that the curls in its long cord—yes, it had a cord—had mostly straightened out.

I remembered it now. I had noticed the phone when we first moved in, but I had thought that something that old couldn't possibly still work.

When it shook with another shrill ring, I jolted. Evidently it did still work.

I debated answering it. Even if it worked, it couldn't be anyone Luc or I knew; who would even know the number? Who was even paying its bill?

The phone let out another horrid ring.

I gnawed on my lip as I wondered what to do. Why wouldn't I answer it? What was the worst thing that could happen? It was just a phone, after all.

But I found my fingers trembling slightly as I lifted the heavy receiver off its hook. I took a deep breath to steady my voice as I held it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Finally!"

It was Luc.

My shoulders relaxed at the sound of his voice. "Why the hell are you calling this phone?"

"Because you aren't answering your phone!" he snapped. He sounded angry. "I was starting to get really worried. You weren't home when I came by and—"

"Oh," I replied, realizing then that I hadn't told him. "My phone's broken."

"Broken?" Luc said. "How did that happen? And why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't really get a chance to when you ran out like that," I said sharply. "And anyway, it's part of that long story I told you about—" I cringed, thinking of it, "—so I'll tell you when you come back. When are you coming back?"

"That's why I'm calling, actually," Luc said, his voice softening. "It's just... I don't know. Things just got a lot more complicated, and, well..."

I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose. "Are you serious?" It came out much harsher than I intended.

Luc sighed. "Yes, and I'm sorry. I really am. I know you wanted to talk. If I don't make back before you go to bed, I'll take you out for breakfast tomorrow—"

"Before I go to bed?" I echoed, horrified. "No. No! I'm not this putting it off again. I'll be waiting for you when you get back."

"No, Rachel, you don't have to stay up—" Luc insisted.

"It's fine. I want to," I replied, my voice sharp. "We're going to talk about this if we have to stay up all night!"

"Rachel—"

I slammed down the phone before he could argue. It felt more satisfying than just jabbing at a button on a screen, but it did little to subdue my anger. For a moment I just stood there, shaking, trying to figure out what exactly I was going to do now.

The ceiling overhead creaked again, and my heart jumped inside my throat. I gripped the side of the sink and shook my head out. No. No. I couldn't let myself tumble down this rabbit hole. This is exactly what had kept me out of the shop this afternoon: getting myself twisted up in my ridiculous anxieties.

I needed to keep myself busy.

The looming pile of boxes behind me caught my attention again. Labels were scrawled on their sides in Luc's messy handwriting. Books, Tools, Amulets... Things for the shop. Maybe I could start unpacking them...

I glanced over the pile, deciding which one to grab first. They were balanced precariously atop each other. It was like selecting a tile to pull from a Jenga tower.

As I leaned in, studying the structure, my foot knocked against one of the boxes at the foot of the pile. The box was large, wide and flat, something that would fit something like a painting, or a picture frame. It was labelled Mom, again in Luc's handwriting.

Could it be a portrait of his mother?

Curiosity made me reach for it. Luc avoided speaking about his family; that was one thing I didn't blame him for keeping to himself, especially with my own history of family issues.

But that didn't mean I didn't wonder...

The box was heavier than I expected. It was so wide that it was hard to hold up, so I balanced it on my one foot and carefully hobbled along with it into the main room. I leaned it against the wall and went back for a few more boxes to unpack.

After I accumulated a smaller pile to work from, I reached for the flat box again... then hesitated. Even though I had dragged it out of the store room, I wasn't sure if I should open it. What if it was something Luc wanted to keep private? There were some secrets he was allowed to keep...

I reached for a box of books instead, thinking that I'd start there while I debated opening the first box.

The label on the second box was accurate; books were indeed what was inside. I pulled them out, one by one, checking their covers for an idea of how to arrange them on the shelves. Only problem was that I couldn't read any of the titles. I couldn't even reliably alphabetize them; some had foreign characters that I had no idea where they landed amongst the ABCs. If my phone was working, I could've used the internet to look it up, but...

I sighed, dropping the books back into the box. So much for keeping myself busy.

My eyes wandered back to the flat box.

The tape that kept its top flap in place was old, yellowed, delicate. It wouldn't take much to open accidentally... Or look like it had.

Just a peek. A peek wouldn't hurt. I dropped to my knees in front of it and reached for the corner of tape that had already curled up. A tiny tug and it pulled free without even ripping the cardboard. I ran my fingers underneath it, separating the rest of the tape. The flap slipped out of its notch just as easily.

I pulled back the cardboard, and peered inside. But all I could see was velvet, a protective swathe of fabric bundled around it. Unable to resist my curiosity, I shimmied back and carefully laid the box down so it was flat against the floor. Reaching inside, I took hold of the velvet and pulled. It came easily, sliding against the cardboard.

Once it was half way out, I set it down. My fingers worked through the velvet, trying to find an edge. When I did, I pulled it back a tiny bit, to a see what was hidden inside.

I gasped. This was no picture. Instead it was a thick piece of a dark wood, cut into perfect, smooth circle. On the disc's surface, each letter of the alphabet had been carved carefully along the edge. Curled inside the outer ring was an intricate pattern of roses and thorns. Amongst the flowers were two eyes, one open, and one closed, like the image was winking at me.

Though it looked very different from the flimsy cardboard version I had once used at a middle school slumber party, I knew exactly what this was.

It was spirit board, a tool used to communicate with the dead.

And it gave me an idea.

+ + +

What do you think Rachel's idea is?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please remember to vote & comment if you did!

As usual, I'll be posting the next chapter on Patreon next week, and then on Wattpad the week after that!