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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?”