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When I run to the door, the two guys from earlier are there, blocking me. Apparently, they let me in but have no intentions of letting me out, so I veer up the stairs instead, running up the curled ornate staircase leading to the rooms above.

I stall, catching my breath at the top of the stairs. Dim lights shine on a blood-red carpet in a long hallway with a few doors on either side. I turn, and am only met with silence and dust, so I tiptoe down the hall as the floorboards creak beneath my feet.

I decide to explore.

My eyes are immediately drawn to rows of photos lined up on the wall, similar frames to the one downstairs. As I carefully examine each old black-and-white photo, some dating back over a hundred years, I eventually stumble upon one that catches my attention. It is a picture of Dr. Garcia, adorned in her graduation gown, proudly receiving her degree. Her dark hair, neatly parted down the middle, gracefully cascades down to her lower back. She looks youthful in this photo, and it’s hard to believe she was around twenty at the time.

Her beauty is undeniable, but the way she gazes directly into the camera is almost unnerving, like a cold stare that chills me to the bone.

As if she’s saying, I see you, and the welcome isn’t friendly.

I notice pictures of Xander and others I don’t recognize, assuming one of them is Xander’s mom, who I realize I know nothing about or what happened to her. My breath catches when I see a photo of Lincoln next to Xander. Lincoln barely looks eleven, and I stare at him for way too long as my one memory flashes back at me. I stare at his eyes, trying to decipher who is inside there, staring back at me.

It’s Mikael, I decide. It can’t be Lincoln, because this sad-looking boy staring back at me is not wearing glasses. It’s also the boy I remember seeing.

I move down the hall and another picture stands out to me. I take in a tall, handsome boy with wavy sandy hair next to her holding a guitar. Dimples I can’t look away from. Emotion rushes through me as I stare at his familiar face. Such a kind face, so many of his features trickled down to me. So many times I spent bouncing in his arms as a young child.

Tommy Landry…my papa.

He was such an incredible man, even though I haven’t seen him in years. My father and he had a falling out and quit speaking. I lost my relationship with him because of it.

He is still alive to this day, nestled in a small quiet town a couple hours away from here.

The woman standing beside him takes my breath away. I gasp as I behold the sight of my stunning grandmother, Didi. Her hair, her eyes, her face, all white.

I’ve only ever laid eyes on a single photograph of her before, but it never could have prepared me for this moment.

She passed away before I was born, so I never had the chance to know her. But I have an indescribable connection to her.

I inherited partial albinism from her, although it only affects my hair and skin. My eyes are blue, my eyelashes are dark, my skin and lips have a hue.

She was born with winter in her soul.

Her hair, her skin, every single feature is a brilliant white.

She’s standing between my grandfather and Dr. Garcia. Dr. Garcia is kissing her cheek, and my grandmother is smiling. My grandfather stares down at her adoringly, and they all look…happy. I refuse to believe they were behind the slaughter of 1979.

But the death was real: the blood, and the carnage left behind. Someone or something was behind it.

My grandparents, Tommy and Didi, lived in this old house, I realize. Dr. Garcia knew them so well. I try to breathe as the realization of what I’m looking at settles in.

Chaos, 1979, is written in ink on the bottom of the photo.

The years match up perfectly.

Something creaks behind me, and I lurch back. Two men stand at the end of the hall to my left, wearing masks, hidden in the deep shadows of the hall. My heart startles and I reach for the closest door, twist the handle, and step into the dark while slamming the door behind me. Luckily, I’m able to twist the lock in place.

I stumble back, falling in the dark bedroom. My heart races and my body trembles as the door handle jiggles. The room is completely dark, but my eyes slowly begin to adjust. A heavy buzz courses through my skin, as if my body is turning into liquid.

Fuck…

The drink they gave me must have had something in it.

I slam my hand over my mouth as heavy footsteps stop in front of the door.

“Sum—mer,” Xander’s voice is deep and brooding. He raps his knuckles hard on the door, causing me to flinch. “You sneak into my house, and you don’t even want to say hi?”

I instantly hate him. Everything about him.