AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Text security. Possible breach, ward four.”
There was no way—no way—that it could be the guy from the cemetery.
Right?
She skidded to a halt, her sneakers squeaking on the floor as she looked up at the room number out of habit—192.
Now it wasn’t just her lungs that were unhappy, the hairs on her arms were standing on end too. The room was dark, and she hung back just to the left of the doorway. The last thing she needed was to be a target outline for some psycho with a gun.
“You’re not supposed to be here, sir,” she called with as much authority as she could muster. “Security’s been called and will be here soon to escort you from the building. If you’re armed, now would be a good time to place your weapon on the floor.”
There was no reply. Bunny let out a breath, not knowing if she preferred the silence or whether a response would have been more heartening. She waited another couple seconds, but when security didn’t arrive and the guy didn’t turn himself in, she realized she was in this mess on her own.
“Sir, I—”
The toilet flushed in the room’s private bathroom.
Bunny blinked. The toilet was behind a closed door across the room. She reached into the room, flicking on the lights as fast as she could. The room was exposed, shadows melting away. It looked like an ordinary hospital room. All the belongings the man had accumulated since arriving at Arcadian Waters were still in place. His bed was still turned down. His slippers were placed exactly where he might wing his legs down to step into them.
The bathroom door was still closed. Behind it, the faucet came on with a gush of water and, a second later, someone pumped the soap dispenser and sounded like they were washing their hands.
Fear gave way to anger. She had better things to do than to be chasing burglars all damn night. Plus, now she had to go back and clean up the mess she’d made in the hallway. With a scowl that was legendary back in Mosswood, Bunny marched towards the bathroom and yanked the door open with force.
“What the hell do you think you’re—” she exclaimed angrily, her words cutting off abruptly as she looked into the room. The toilet cistern was hissing as it filled up with water, and the faucet was still on full blast. But the room itself was completely empty.
* * *
The restof Bunny’s shift had passed in a blur of crazy internal questions and even crazier answers. A fault with the plumbing, she had convinced herself, as she conveniently left her experience in room 192 out of her morning handover notes. That was the most logical explanation, after all. Blaming everything on grief would only get her so far, before she’d be forced to do more than just see a hospital-mandated therapist.
She kicked her shoes off by the door of her apartment, throwing her keys on the small hall table overflowing with takeout menus and junk mail she hadn’t bothered to take to the trash.
Her safe space welcomed her with open arms, and she gulped in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh of relief. No one here needed assistance. No weird hallucinations of strange men in hallways or unconventional plumbing issues. Just her small apartment, with its muted teal walls, comfy leather couch, and her TV waiting patiently for her to cuddle up and binge whatever the hell she wanted. But first, she needed to wash off the day.
Hot water almost scalded her back as she scrubbed, washing her shoulder-length blonde locks with businesslike efficiency. The routine continued: face scrub applied, pits and legs shaved, teeth brushed, face scrub washed off. It was a process so ingrained into her muscle memory, she performed it without thinking.
Bunny looked around her tiny bathroom, her gaze coasting over the bathroom counter to land on the pendant her mom had left her. Thoughts about her first shift at Arcadian Waters bobbed around in her head. Cerise seemed nice enough, she guessed, as far as bosses went. She was better than Julian, at least, though she didn’t suppose he was hard to one-up in that category. But the thing plaguing her the most was the man in black. She had almost forgotten him entirely, in the aftermath of Julian’s crap, being forced to start a new job and having to sign up for counseling. He had obviously still been lurking in her subconscious for her to think she saw him in the hallway. She wondered what Ben—
Hell.
She hadn’t heard from Ben since the funeral.
Something was wrong. It wasn’t like Ben not to call her back, especially not after she’d left him so many panicked voicemails. Bunny’s tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of her minty-fresh mouth. She shut off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and snatched up the smartwatch that was next to the pendant.
“Call Ben.”
With each unanswered ring, Bunny felt her worry tighten like a vise around her throat. When the call finally connected, she felt the pressure ease off like a steam valve being released.
“Hello?” Her brother sounded groggy and disoriented, but she didn’t care.
“Why the fuck haven’t you called me back!?” she demanded, angry with relief. “I’m nearly having a heart attack over here!”
“It’s my day off,” Ben murmured. There was a pause. “It’s 7 am, Bun.”
“I left you a bunch of messages on your voicemail,” Bunny continued. “It was important, Ben. Is everything okay? Why didn’t you call?”
A rustling of blankets filled the background on the other end of the call. Now that she was certain that her brother was actually alive, Bunny put her watch down on the bathroom counter and started to dry herself off.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t get any messages from you.”
