Chapter One: Now
“NOOOO!” I shout as my Monopoly piece lands—again—on Adrian’s hotel property. Typical. Playing with him is like playing with the biggest cheater in Monopoly. And not even the clever kind of cheater—he doesn’t bother hiding it. “Give up and hand over that house of yours, Alina,” he says, already knowing I have no money. He drained my funds two rounds ago.
“I won’t.”
“You can’t even ask her to do something like that. It’s cheating! None of the rules say anything about this,” Julia protests. She’s playing Monopoly for the first time in her life—and unfortunately, it’s with Adrian.
“Since when have I ever followed the rules?” he replies, flashing that evil smirk of his.
“Now give up your last house, or give me my money.” he insists, holding out his hand.
“Okay, fine! You win; I admit it. Just end this torment, please.”
“You can’t end it without giving me my money!”
“Here,” I shout, tossing him my plastic house.
“You can’t do this!” Julia exclaims, her face turning a bright shade of red.
“I miss Rachel,” I add with fake sobs. In reality, she’s the only one who can lift my spirits after a day full of horror movies and endless board games that I never win.
“When’s she coming?” Julia asks.
“I don’t know… she said maybe a three-day layover.” Rachel started her flight attendant job seven months ago, and since then, the house has felt emptier—except for evenings with Adrian and Julia, when someone discovers a horror movie series we absolutely must watch. It’s our thing with Rachel, who screams at every jump scare but still watches with us. We’re still roommates, but I miss her even more after every movie. I might be like her in fear… just without the screams.
“Can’t you stay the night with me?” I ask Julia, who’s already unplugging her phone to call a taxi.
“I wish I could, but I have an early meeting tomorrow with the coordinators for the Bennet-Morgan wedding.”
“Isn’t it eleven months from now, in next August? Or are we talking about another Bennet-Morgans?” Adrian asks.
“Same Bennet-Morgans. But since both the groom and bride are only children, their parents want it to be legendary—something no one could top.”
“Well, good luck with the chaos that will happen,” I say, smiling.
“I do need luck. The chaos actually started three weeks ago with things I don’t even want to remember.” She laughs at herself.
After saying goodbye to them, I head to my room and almost forget the letter on my desk—the third one this month—from an unknown address. Almost the same content each time. I can’t tell anyone about these letters; there’s no need to worry anyone. I think I might know who sent them… I hope I’m right.
I will start my bedtime routine early tonight and head to the kitchen to heat water for chamomile tea. The loneliness hits me again, sharper than usual. The silence in this two-story cottage demands something to fill it, anything to escape it.
Two years ago, I preferred silence with my vanilla candle, notebook, and pencil. Now, it’s unbearable. I can’t stop thinking about everything I’ve been through—about him, our nights on the front porch gossiping, the time he baked me a cake when I was upset, or when we practiced dancing. He never liked dancing, but he did it just for me… And when he —God, I’m doing it again, letting my thoughts circle back to him. No. It’s over. I shouldn’t think about him anymore. That’s why I press play on my phone and start the podcast I’ve been listening to lately.
I almost went to bed without locking the front porch door. As I leaned down to move the vase keeping it from shutting in the wind, I felt it—someone, or something, watching me. My heart skipped a beat. I squinted into the darkness, trying to make out a shape, but nothing was there. A shiver ran down my spine. After tonight’s movie, I should just shut the door, lock it, and dive under the covers to hug Marshmallow—my biggest stuffed penguin, the one I can’t sleep without. But a soft creak from the woods made me freeze.
