My jaw locks.
“She won’t leave,” he goes on. “Keeps saying you told her to come. Keeps saying you’ll be home tonight.”
“I didn’t,” I say.
“I know,” Seth replies. Then, quieter: “Ethan… I don’t know if she’s on something. Or if she didn’t take her meds. But man— I’ve known her a long time. I know Tony and the guys would say she’s crazy, we’d sit around the fire pit, drink beers, laugh it off.”
A pause.
“But this?” He exhales hard. “This is next level, bro.”
A crash sounds faintly through the phone. Not violent—just careless. Like nothing matters.
“She tried to light another pile of clothes,” Seth says. “I stopped her. She screamed like I was attacking her.”
That’s it.
“Call the police,” I say immediately.
No debate. No hesitation.
I have the phone on speaker.
Tony’s head snaps up beside me. He doesn’t say anything. He just watches my face.
“There’s water everywhere,” Seth continues. I hear footsteps, sloshing. “Basement’s flooded. Towels shoved into the sink like she wanted it to happen. I shut it all off but…”
My chest tightens.
“Where is she?” I ask.
A pause.
Then—
“She’s back upstairs.”
My jaw locks.
“In your bedroom,” he adds. “Wearing your flannel.”
The wind howls across the ridge, sharp and endless. I can barely feel my fingers.
“She keeps saying you told her to come,” Seth says. “Keeps saying you’re on your way home. That she has a key and is welcomed here She denies breaking in and the windows aren’t broken—yet.”
“I didn’t invite her or give her a key.” I say hoarsely.
“I know.”
Something crashes in the background. Not explosive—just careless. Like a lamp knocked over and ignored.
“She’s not making sense,” Seth goes on. “I don’t know if she’s on something, or if she didn’t take her meds, but?—”
A voice cuts through the line.
High. Sharp. Feral.
“—WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?”
