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My mother’s words echo again and again. Love is worth it. But do I really love Sterling, and can he really love me? That’s what stops me from leaping.

Instead, as we wait for our coffees, I fill the silence, rambling about the TV show I’ve been watching, and he lets me. He sets his chin on his hand and tilts his head, his eyes crinkling as I speak.

“And—and I had a dream last night,” I say, grasping for straws. Anything to talk about other than my feelings.

“Oh?”

I nod. “Another weird one, from the house, I think. It… it gave me a name.” My vision goes fuzzy as I stare through Sterling rather than at him. It takes me several moments to grasp the name.

The door opens, and a breeze wafts through, blowing into my hair and sending goose bumps over my skin.

Sterling’s spine is ramrod straight. He watches me intently and glances at the door before his attention drifts back to me. That dream…

I see her face in my head. Hair floating around her. Hovering above me as I’m paralyzed on my bed.

“He’ll never want you when he has me,” she whispers into my ear.

“Who are you?” I shouted.

She didn’t even flinch. Her scream was louder, and she left me with her name. Two syllables.

“Wendy,” I finally say. “Her name was Wendy. You don’t think… is that the house’s name?”

If someone knows, it will be him.

Our drinks arrive then, and Sterling doesn’t answer, taking his mug in shaky hands. “It was a dream,” he whispers after our server backs away.

Something in Sterling shifts. The dark circles under his eyes are darker, and he’s trembling like a leaf. How could one name—one so sweet, almost innocent—fill him with fear?

I frown. “You really think so?”

Before moving to Starbrook, I didn’t dream much at all. My family hasn’t reported the same dreams, but from the start, Sterling mentioned he had house-related dreams too. Now, he’s backtracking, and it feels…

Lonely, I suppose.

“I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his curls. “What about your show?”

I blink. “You want to talk about the show?“

Sterling barely watches TV, but he lets me tell him about my trashy reality shows and whatever sitcom is currently on my radar. Still, it’s strange for him to bring the topic back there.

He nods firmly. “Tell me about Cooper. He really went to the other house and immediately started cheating?”

I groan, rolling my eyes. “He did. I was totally rooting for them, too. I don’t know if I can keep watching this season now that I don’t have anyone to root for…”

If Sterling is trying to distract me, it works. I could rant about Cooper for the next three weeks and not run out of material. The topic takes up the rest of our coffee not-date, and even though part of me wants to ask more about the name, the house, about Wendy…

I don’t.

The look of horror, his quivering fingers, those things may never leave the back of my mind.

Maybe it’s best left unsaid.

Chapter 32

Aurora

Over the next few weeks, Sterling and I find an easy rhythm. At work, we’re coworkers—and we only hook up the one time, even though I want to bounce on it every day when he comes in with his neatly styled hair, perfectly ironed clothes, and those dorky glasses. At night, we text and sometimes go out together. Shopping around town, drinking at the tavern, whatever.