When I grab my blanket from the arm of the couch, I freeze.Something isn’t right.The blanket was folded, but I never fold it—I drape it.Did Seth fold it when he and Damiano walked me inside?
It’s not just the folding—it smells different.Like a man.That spicy deodorant scent.
First the creepy man’s face in the window.Now a blanket folded up and not smelling like it should.Am I losing my mind?I have cameras everywhere now.They’ve picked up nothing.If someone came into this house, I would know.So would the guys Damiano stationed at the gate.
Wait a second.I’ve seen this story before.It was on Redactible.This guy was convinced that someone was entering his apartment, when nobody else had the key and there were no signs of forced entry.Several times a week, he would find things where they didn’t belong.A six-pack of beer left under the sink.His socks soaking in the toilet bowl.The TV left on, when he hadn’t watched anything in days.
Everyone commenting on his post had theories, ranging from bizarre (a family of ghosts) to simple (he forgot he gave a key to a friend).But one person suggested he check his carbon monoxide detector—and it turned out the guy was slowly being poisoned.
Jumping up, I look along the walls and ceilings.Where is my carbon monoxide detector?Do I have one?Doesn’t everybody?
I find something that looks like it could be a detector, so I grab a chair to stand on for a better look.Sure enough, it’s a carbon monoxide detector.A tiny bulb is located on the side, but there’s no light whatsoever.I stand on my tiptoes, dangerously teetering on the chair, and make out text indicating that if the light is off, the battery is dead.
That would explain everything.
After climbing down from my chair, I call the non-emergency number for the fire department.“Hey, I don’t know for sure, but I think I’ve been imagining things, and it turns out, my carbon monoxide detector has a dead battery.Do you think?—”
“What’s your address?”
I tell it to him.
“We’ll have someone out there soon, miss.Please wait outside the home.”
True to their word, a fire truck arrives in ten minutes.Two men and a woman climb out and approach my porch where I’m waiting.The woman holds a short, wand-like device in her hand.After a brief introduction, I let them inside.Several minutes later, they return to the porch.
“Anything?”I ask.
The female firefighter gives me a reassuring smile.“No carbon monoxide detected.We went ahead and replaced your batteries for you, though, to be safe.”
I thank them profusely, but I’m disappointed all the same.Carbon monoxide poisoning could’ve explained everything.
Now, either I’m crazy, or someone is messing with me.
SETH
Eliza meets me at San Estebean, a coffee shop not far from the Nove building.She’s already sitting at a table when I arrive, a mug in her hand.Her auburn hair is up in a ponytail, curls spilling down her shoulders.
I order at the counter, then sit down at her table, taking the seat across from her.“Hey, thanks for agreeing to meet.”
“Of course.”Eliza grimaces.“It’s the least I can do.”
It seems to me like she already did too much, whatever happened with Kyle, but that’s why we’re here.I need answers.Madison needs answers.If we have information, we can stop wondering and obsessing.
“Before you say anything—” She breaks off when the barista comes over with my espresso.
Once the barista is gone again, I nod at Eliza.“Go ahead.”
“Right.”She blushes.“Like I was saying, I just want you to know that Kyle and I weren’t in any kind of relationship.It was just friendship with us.I don’t know why your mom insinuated otherwise.”
“So you guessed why I wanted to talk with you today.”
“Yeah.”Her hands are wrapped firmly around her coffee mug, like she’s afraid it’ll float away.“That was…the most humiliating Thanksgiving I’ve ever experienced.I can only imagine it was a thousand times worse for Madison.”
I don’t comment.I don’t know if I can trust Eliza, which means I won’t trust her with Madison’s personal feelings or reactions.
“Right.”Eliza nods to herself.“If you wouldn’t mind—do you think you could tell her I’m sorry?”
“If you and Kyle were just friends, what are you apologizing for, exactly?”I ask.
