I don’t know what else to do. It punishes me in odd, terrifying ways. Hiding my things, making me get lost on my way to bed or the kitchen or the bathroom. It’s like it’s playing with me. Like I’m a mouse and it’s batting me around with its paw. It grows quiet, or trembles so subtly while I’m working or cooking. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it. It trips me on the stairs, drops paintings near me when I walk past, and the nightmares. Oh, Gaia, the dreams. It gives me dreams straight from hell and then makes me realize I’m awake.
The photos in the hallway are all of Gavin and the house. There was one of us together, him in his stroller and me at his side. A part of the photograph had been burned, my face nothing more than a scorch mark. I took it down, hid some of the others, and have started to make a plan.
I’m going to take Gavin to Ron’s until I can clear this up. In case something happens, I’m leaving our documents in this box and leaving tonight. If someone finds these. . . help him.
Delilah laid the note back down in the box and gave herself to the count of ten to panic.
1. . . 2. . .
Gavin is in there.
3. . . 4. . . 5. . .
Gavin is alone.
6. . . 7. . .
Hilary was probably killed by the house and this is all a trap. It will never let him out now.
8. . . 9. . . 10.
The house wouldn’t hurt Gavin.
It wouldn’t.
It wouldn’t.
It wouldn’t.
Delilah inhaled sharply, swallowing her fear, her sick, slithering panic. The sound of the tires on pavement filled her head. The house loved Gavin and wanted her gone. It wanted her to leave. It wanted her to run away and leave Gavin behind.
There was no way in hell.
“Dhaval! Take this turn first. Stop by my house!” she said.
? ? ?
Delilah looked out at the houses as they pulled onto her street. The neighborhood felt deserted in the late-morning sun: The sidewalk was flat, and the street was empty. There wasn’t even much of a breeze. Instead, the brightly colored houses down the blocks looked like innocent toys, or candy, lined up obliviously and vulnerable.
Her mother was gone, but Franklin Blue was home in the family room, watching the news in the middle of the day. He didn’t even call out to her as she dug through her duffel bag in the living room, changed into black jeans, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, and a thin down vest. She strapped on boots and glanced at herself in the dining room mirror.
Dhaval stepped into the room. “You look badass.”
“I need to.”
“The house doesn’t care how you look, does it?” he asked, trying to bring in some of his trademark swagger, but it fell flat.
“No, but I need to feel like someone who can do this. Someone in a little skirt and polo shirt won’t beat down the demons.”
He followed her out through the family room—Franklin complaining only when they blocked his view of the television—and into the backyard.
“Where are you going?” Dhaval hissed, trailing behind her into the shed. His eyes went as wide as saucers when she reached for an ax on the wall. “Delilah, are you out of your damn mind?”
“You think I can get him out with my bare hands?” She sounded braver than she felt, and gripped the weapon in both of her hands. Was it any good to take this along, or was she better off leaving both hands free, simply to defend herself? She imagined shards of wood and plaster; she imagined fire and wind and the enormous tremors of the house shaking all around her. Any weapon she had, would the house simply take it over? Could she control anything?
“An ax?” he yell-hissed. “This isn’t the zombie apocalypse, girl! Your dad doesn’t have a gun?”
“You think a gun is going to work on a possessed house? I don’t need to reload an ax!”
“What’s going on out here?” The gruff, deep voice of Delilah’s father tore through the crisp, bright air, and both teens whipped around to face him, eyes wide.
“We need an ax to take down this diseased tree over at Dhaval’s.” Delilah recovered smoothly.
Franklin leaned against the doorway, looking skeptical as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was so enormous that for a tiny beat Delilah wished he were just a little more crazy, a touch more adventurous; he would make an excellent addition to the team they were putting together. “Ravi doesn’t have one?” he asked.