I wish I could do the same.
While Mrs. Johnson is with her, I go through the motions. Feed the horses. Check the stalls. Wash up.
By noon, the sun blazes high, drenching the land in heat, but it does nothing to thaw the unease knotting itself into my chest. Maddie hums as she stacks blocks in the living room, lost in her world, unfazed. Maybe I should be too. Maybe this is just a toddler’s imagination running wild.
But I know better.
I grab my phone, step onto the porch, and dial Malerick. The line barely rings twice before he picks up, his voice edged with impatience. “What’s up, Hopper?”
I don’t waste time. “Maddie’s been waking up at night. Two nights in a row.”
His irritation is instant. “Call her pediatrician?”
I exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “She says there’s a man outside her window.”
There’s a pause. His breathing is loud, but he doesn’t say a word. I can picture Malerick now—leaning back, brows furrowing, calculating.
“Mal, are you still there?”
“You think she actually saw someone?” he finally asks.
“I don’t know. She’s two and a half, Mal. It could be nightmares, but . . .” My gaze drifts toward the tree line. “Everything around feels . . . it feels off. Especially with Nysa back.”
Another pause. Longer this time. Then?—
“The fuck is Nysa? That her mother? Do you need a restraining order?”
My family doesn’t know much about Maddie’s mom—or anything for that matter. It’s complicated, and since my brothers and I are not that close, it doesn’t seem logical even to disclose anything—and this is obviously not the time.
“Mal, focus,” I grit out. “Nysa Calloway is my neighbor.”
His snort is instant. “No one lives next door. I know there’s a case . . . some woman lived there three years ago, but she disappeared. They were looking for her, and then the case went cold. I could look into it when I’m back at the office.”
“Well, someone does now.” My grip tightens around the phone. “Nysa Calloway moved in two nights ago.”
“Isn’t that Mrs. Harper’s granddaughter?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Who the fuck knows?”
“So she’s living at the abandoned farm. When did that happen?”
I glance toward her house, barely visible through the trees, the windows dark and unreadable. “Like I said. Two nights ago. And she doesn’t seem like she wants people knowing.”
Malerick exhales, the sound crackling through the line. It’s like I’m annoying the fuck out of him and he has more important shit to do.
“She was scared, Mal,” I say, lowering my voice, my mind flicking back to that night in the barn—the way her whole body had tensed, the raw fear in her eyes. “Really scared. And now Maddie’s seeing a man outside her window? It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“It could be,” he admits, but there’s doubt in his voice. “Or it could be nothing. Kids make things up.”
“Yeah?” I counter. “Like the explosion at the Doherty mansion?”
A groan. “Fuck, don’t remind me.” There’s a rustling sound on his end. “You really think?—”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But it worries me.”
A beat passes. Then, as if to shift gears, I ask, “What’s going on with Ledger and his new bride? Are they really safe? Are they ever coming back?”
“They’re on their honeymoon. You don’t have to worry about them.” A chair scrapes. “I’ll swing by your place later. Check the area, see if anything feels off. In the meantime, keep an eye on Maddie. And Nysa, if you can. If she’s scared, there’s probably a reason.”
