Chapter 3

I sat in the dark for a long time.

What kind of normal fiancé locks his sick girlfriend in her room?

I felt my way to the door, grabbed the handle, and twisted it hard.

It didn't move.

I pressed my ear against the wood. Outside was completely silent. Not a sound.

And then I heard it — a faint, dry rustling.

It wasn't coming from beyond the door. It was coming from… inside the wall.

Like something crawling through the space between the walls. Like fingernails dragging slowly across concrete.

I stumbled backward in fright, my back hitting the wardrobe.

The sound lasted maybe ten seconds. Then it stopped.

I stood there heaving, cold sweat soaking through my shirt.

Mice？ It's just mice. This house is old — of course there are mice.

I kept telling myself that. I felt my way to the bed, climbed in, and pulled the covers over my head.

That night, I barely slept.

My dreams were full of fire — everywhere — and a man I couldn't quite see, standing in the middle of the flames, staring straight at me.

"Claire… you can't run from me…"

I woke up screaming, drenched.

It was already light outside.

A knock at the door.

"Claire? You up? I'm coming in."

The lock clicked. Sebastian stepped inside.

He walked in with a tray of breakfast, a flawless smile on his face.

"Slept well?" he asked.

"Pretty well," I said. I pushed the fear down and kept my voice casual. "Sebastian — did you… hear anything last night?"

His hand paused over the soup bowl.

"what was that?"

"Like — mice in the walls, maybe."

He smiled and handed me the bowl. "Old house. Bound to happen. I'll buy some mouse poison

today. Eat up — I want to show you something after."

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