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The music from the bathroom drones on, but I strain my hearing past it.
Someone is rummaging around in my room.
Did Gia and Zia Stella get back already? And what is Gialookingfor that would make her snoop through my stuff twice in the same day?
Ready to catch her red-handed this time, I tighten my towel and slowly turn the doorknob before flinging it open and jumping in.“Caught y—”
The words die on my lips as I take in the scene in front of me. My room isdestroyed—everything is thrown all over the place. All my drawers are pulled out of the dresser and tossed on the floor, their contents scattered.
The bedsheets are stripped, and my mattress is bare and upright on the other side of the room. My entire wooden desk is tipped over, the drawers lying across the room where it looks like they were flung at the wall if the holes in the drywall are any indication. My lamp, which is lying on its side on the floor, provides the only light in the room other than the streetlights and moonlight.
Feathers from the ripped pillows flutter through the air.
A tornado has hit the house, but it’s only affected my room.
Before I can fully process what I’m seeing or even reach for the light switch, a huge figure dressed entirely in black emerges from my closet like a monster from my worst nightmares. Panic squeezes my throat, and I forget how to breathe.
He pauses when he sees me standing there, alone and terrified in only a towel, and his shoulders seem to puff up and tense, making him look even bigger and more terrifying. My heart drops straight into my stomach, and for the briefest of moments, Lily flashes into my mind. A girl my age, who lived right next door, has disappeared without a trace, and here I am, home alone at night, with a menacing intruder in my house, and I’m ina towel.
Before I can act, before my legs catch up to my brain telling them torun, I open my mouth and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
The intruder is quicker than I am and reacts right away.
He runs.
Right. Toward. Me.
I’m still standing stupidly right in front of the door, and for some reason my legs won’t move. Terror has me frozen, and I stand in place as the intruder doesn’t slow down, charging at me. Before he bodychecks me into oblivion, I snap out of it and sidestep. I’m not fast enough, though, and he clips my shoulder, sending me tumbling into the wall. Pain shoots through my shoulder, and my hair towel rips at my hair when it falls off. The intruder continues past me, thankGod, but as he does, I catch a whiff of cinnamon.
He barrels down the stairs without stopping, and I slam my bedroom door shut, sliding what’s left of the dresser in front of it. My chest heaves as I try to calm my breathing, but the sound of the front door opening makes me push up to my feet.
I rush to the window in time to see the hulking figure sprint across the lawn and down the street, but even though I can see the distance being created between us, I still can’t catch my breath, still can’t calm my racing heart.
I sink onto the mess on the floor, hugging my towel tighter around me, thankful beyond words it stayed up during that whole ordeal, and try Anusha’s calming breathing technique. The panic doesn’t subside, and I try over and over to suck in air.
There was a man in the house. He was rummaging through my things, destroying my room, all while I was right next door, naked in the bathtub. I didn’t even lock the bathroom door; he could’ve come in at any time.
And he can still come back at any time.
Forcing myself up, I move the dresser blocking the door, sprint to the bathroom, grab my phone, and sprint back to my room, pushing the furniture back for extra measure. I’m not sure what good it’s doing since all the drawers and clothes are strewn everywhere, but it’s an extra layer between me and the intruder, and it gives me peace of mind. I sink down in front of the dresser, leaning against it for added weight, and dial 911.
As I wait for them to arrive, I manage to calm my breathing, and as I replay the events in my mind, something sticks out to me. That hulking body shape, that height, that cinnamon—they’re all too familiar.
Nine
An hour later, I’ve calmed down enough to not jump at every sound. Zia Stella is making tea while I’m sitting with Gia on the couch, fully dressed in sweatpants and a baggy sweater, as the police finish their investigation.
Officer Liu isnotone of the responding officers, thank goodness, and the man who took my statement was kind and gentle. He even stayed with me in my room while I took stock of anything that was taken for their report.
It’s odd, though, because an intruder was in my house, going through my things, and nothing was taken. Not my purse or wallet or laptop or cash stash. But Brandon’s phone, which was hidden in my desk drawer, is gone.
I can’t tell them about that, though, so I confirm that nothing was stolen, and in my statement, I tell them who I think did it. It’s obvious, and I should’ve connected the dots right away.
Brandon broke into my house.
He seemed more unhinged, and he’d said he’d take more drastic measures to get his phone back. He practicallytoldme he’d break into my house! And now the intruder has Brandon’s exact same build and smell, and the phone he’s been threatening me for has disappeared?
It was him! He was in my room, destroying it, searching through my underwear drawer!
