Page 203

No clue if I’m using the correct side or not, I start rubbing at the smudges in soft circular motions. Either way, it seems to be working.

“So why were you calling Guy?”

With a sigh, she says, “Because it’s scary.”

My hand stops. “What is?”

“Being here. Alone. Trying to sleep. Alone.”

“You don’t like being alone.”

“Not in this house.”

After another moment, I resume the gentle circles.

As someone who’s spent many, many nights alone in this house, I understand. It’s not scary to me, obviously, but I can see how it could be to Kota. It’s creaky as fuck, there’s no security system, and depending what day it is, cleaners are in and out without so much as a word.

“Do you have nightmares?”

“Worse. Sleep paralysis.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know. It’s like…I can’t tell between reality and nightmare.”

I remember the night in the hallway and her reaction to me.

“Do you dream of people?”

“Kind of. They’re demons.”

Demons? And she can’t tell if they’re real or not?

“Have I ever been one?”

“Yeah,” she says simply. “But you don’t scare me.”

“That’s…good.” I guess.

Her eyes flutter open, and I try to ignore the way they trail over every one of my features while I work.

“Do you have to go to the cemetery tonight?”

My eyebrows pull together. “What cemetery?”

“The one you work at.”

I pause to look her in the eyes. “I don’t work at a cemetery.”

“You said you did.”

“No…”

“You said you work at a graveyard.”

“I said I work graveyard. You know, night shift.”

“Night shift?”