"I'll see you at school," Will says as he lowers one foot to the ground.

That's when I stop him. "I'm sorry."

He pauses, his brows creasing. "For what?"

"Just... for the way I am."

He waits for me to continue, his eyebrows drawn together.

"I'm difficult to be around. I can't connect with people. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or say. I didn't mean to imply you couldn't do anything else with your life. Not that there's anything wrong with being a mechanic, but I'm sorry I assumed it."

He smiles, the small indentation on his cheek reappearing as his dark eyes soften. "You're fine, Leila. Don't overthink it. I've been considering engineering, but my dad's not thrilled." He raises his eyebrows, making a face. "And that's putting it mildly. If anything, he wants me to study business. I get why everyone assumes it." He steps onto the driveway and closes the door behind him, raising his hand before turning and heading across the lawn to his house.

I race along the dimming roads. Already the wind has picked up and dark clouds obscure the sun. By the time I reach my street, fat raindrops pelt my windshield. I park under the canopy of the birch tree in my front yard and dash to the steps. On the porch, I fumble with my keys, but when I twist the doorknob, it turns under my hand. My mouth falls open. I can't believe she's left it unlocked. Again.

After I asked her not to and she said she wouldn't.

I'm used to being alone, but tonight feels different. My mind jumps back to the note on my windshield. I picture the writer, sitting watching me and Cassie; even now creating a new drawing, and goosebumps materialize on my skin. Why would someone do that? I found it on my windshield. It's awful to imagine where I might find another one.

Maybe in this house?

After all, Cassie's left the door open-an invitation for anyone to come in.

I'm scaring myself, but I can't help it. The space is darker than usual because of the storm that rages outside. I remove my shoes without bothering with the hallway light; it's burnt out and neither Cassie nor I have taken the time to change it. The living room is in shadows. When I turn on the lamp near the armchair, the curtains are closed. Did Cassie close them this afternoon when it was sunny? I walk to the kitchen and flick on the light. The blinds are lowered on the side windows.

I take the stairs two at a time to Cassie's room, switch on the light, and find the same thing. In every room, the shades are down. I can't understand it. Why would Cassie do that? Shadows bathe the hall when I flick on the light and enter the bathroom.

I freeze as the shower curtain moves.

My stomach contracts and my heart races. I tell myself there can't be someone hiding there. It's not possible. I say it over and over as I take in short, quick gasps. It's got to be the wind blowing in from the window I left open this morning after my shower. But as I go to drag back the curtain, I find I can't do it and back slowly out to the hall.

In my room, the deadbolt clicks under my hand. I sit on the edge of the bed to steady my breathing. My lids squeeze tight and I picture my lungs filling with air. Only this time, I breathe in the scent of roses.

I blink and breathe in again. It's unmistakable.

But why? How?

I scan my room. The first thing I spot is the old wicker chair in the corner. Underneath is a bra and a T-shirt.

Leaving my clothes on the floor is something I would never do. I bend to retrieve them and stare at my hand. The smell wafts off my bra. Is it really coming from there? Goosebumps rise as I look around to see if anything else is different. Is it me, or has someone moved everything? I sink onto the mattress. I don't have the answer to the question. Maybe Cassie came in for something. Maybe she was wearing perfume, and she bumped into my chair and upset the clothes I left there.

A terrifying thought makes its way in.

Or maybe someone else has been here.