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her bag. "I could talk to them because I'm in the same position as them. It might seem less intrusive."

"Rather you than me," said Martin.

"Maybe. What else can we do? Go to the Best Choice Insurance office and demand to get information. I'm sure that will go down well."

"You could get hired by them and go undercover," Aadesh suggested only half seriously.

"I don't think Isabella has that long. Shit." The door gave way as Kristen leaned on it. "I locked it. I know I did."

"Should we call the police?" Aadesh asked.

"Not yet." She pushed the door lightly, and the others followed close behind. A dark silence met them as they walked through the door, and as Kristen flicked on the light switch, it was clear someone had been there. The hallway floor was covered in coats and shoes. The shoe rack was lying on its side.

When she switched the living room light on, the extent of the break-in was plain to see. The television had been smashed, and the letters were strewn everywhere along with books knocked from the shelf splayed out like fans. Kristen grabbed a baseball bat that she had stashed away behind the sofa. "I need to check the rest of the house."

She took short, measured steps as she crept to the kitchen, switching the light on as soon as she could in case the killer was hiding in the shadows. The wind must have picked up as branches rattled against the window, putting her more on edge. Suddenly every little noise seemed deafening, like the house was alive.

Her foot stepped in a pool of milk that had been emptied all over the kitchen floor, along with all the other contents of the fridge. The cabinets were wide open, and breakfast cereal was scattered everywhere. Ketchup was smeared all over the kitchen counter and across the cabinets. If it wasn't for the sickly vinegary smell, she would have sworn it was blood, like the writing on the wall when she found her father's body.

Her body reacted like it did that day as the memories started flooding back, even more viscerally than before. She had company now. She couldn't fall apart. They were all here to help her. She could be strong; she needed to be strong. Aadesh stood by her side, giving her the space she needed, but just knowing someone was there, was enough.

The dining room was clear. The softer Kristen stepped up the staircase, the more it creaked. There was no sense in creeping about. They had already been loud enough. There was a little light coming from downstairs, but not enough for her liking, and she kept mistaking Aadesh's footsteps behind her for something else. She peered through the bathroom door, expecting him to jump out from behind it, but it was empty. "Nothing here." She gave Aadesh the nod as she approached the bedroom door and turned the handle.

As the light flashed on, and she saw the state of her bedroom, she sharply inhaled, as if a dagger had been stuck into her chest. Every item of clothing had been tossed from the drawers and closet. Her bedroom, and safe space was compromised. She stood in the doorway imagining him going through her belongings. Violated was not a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling as she tried to keep it together.

"I can't believe this," Aadesh said from the landing. The sound of the others talking downstairs kept her grounded. She wasn't alone. Thank god they were here. As long as they were here, nothing bad could happen, right? She walked in further, checking behind the bed. She imagined his hand reaching out from under the bed and grabbing her like the nightmares she used to have as a child. Her heart felt like it might stop as she knelt down and peered under. The silhouette of junk that had found its way under there made her flinch until she realized what it was. It's fine. You're fine. You're not alone. She recited this over and over.

Sharing her house with strangers from the internet was something she would never had considered, yet now, she trusted these people like they were family. Aadesh helped her up from the floor. "Just the spare room to go." It was hard for her to keep a firm grip on the baseball bat, her hands were slippery, but she clutched it as tight as she could as she opened the door to the spare room and switched on the light. She breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty and untouched.

"So, what now?" Aadesh asked.

"I'm going to call the cops."

Aadesh made his way downstairs to rejoin the others who were debating various theories. "All clear upstairs. Do you think we should check the garden? Just to be sure."

"This is so scary." Piper's hands were clutched together as if in prayer.

"I'll go," Martin offered.

"You can't leave me here alone."

"Don't worry. I can check. I'm sure its fine." Aadesh wandered into the kitchen. Although slightly apprehensive, it was almost more like excitement. That exhilarating tension that came from doing something dangerous. It was pitch black, so he loaded up the flashlight on his phone before unlocking the door.

The night air was refreshing, and he just started relaxing when a dog barked from a neighboring yard, and he swore he could hear the tinkling of a wind chime coming from somewhere. If this was a horror film, he was sure he would probably be the one to get picked off first. Stupid wind chimes. Were they supposed to sound nice or something? Because to him, they always sounded creepy. There was a gentle rustling, light enough that it could just be blades of grass in the wind. Then there were the bushes by the kitchen window banging against the glass.

He cast the light from his

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