Dad rushes inside, entering through the back kitchen door and then storming into the living room. “Soph, what’s going on? Why didn’t you answer my text?”

  He looks from me to Garver, who sits with guilt flashed across his forehead for some reason. Dad’s eyes bulge with suspicion and I’m forced to seize his mind from making false accusations. He probably assumes I’m knocked up. “We found something,” I begin with fright filling my lungs. “It’s in the attic.”

  Dad scratches his head, squinting as if to presume I’m being ridiculous again. “You made it seem like it’s an emergency. You know how important my job is, Sophie.”

  “Dad, I know. I wouldn’t have bothered you for something stupid.” Already walking toward the stairs, I motion for him to follow. “Just come with me. It’s better if I show you.”

  Leaving Garver behind, not even sure if he will witness my father’s reaction, I focus on proving my case with or without my partner in crime. I’ll take the blame for this if it goes sour.

  While stomping up two flights, I give my dad the rundown on the box of evidence, how I came to my conclusion, and finally the reason he had to come home.

  “Soph, I told you before that the attic will be my last project.”

  “Dad, just wait until you see it. This is something we can’t ignore.” I point to the small hole. “Look for yourself.”

  Reluctantly, he positions his eye over the opening and glances in. It’s so quiet I can hear the dust falling around us. The large attic space feels confining, almost as if it’s closing in from the outside.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot Garver hovering over the first step leading downstairs. He made it clear he wanted no part of this and I sort of left him without a choice. I motion with my hand for him to go. I have a feeling this is going to take more explaining than Garver is willing to stick around for.

  His feet no sooner hit the last step and Dad has turned around with bewildered, yet worried eyes. “Go downstairs, Sophie.”

  “What? Why?”

  When his arms begin to wave around I catch on that this is very serious. “Because I said so. I’ll handle this.”

  “Dad, but listen, I found boxes of information. There was a daughter with birth defects. Dad, they kept her locked up here. I’m sure of it. I told you this place was haunted.”

  His voice raises. “Sophie, go downstairs now! Just go.” He’s running a hand through his overgrown hair, pacing while contemplating what steps to take next.

  As much as I don’t want to go, I know I need to. Dad is home. He finally has a reason to believe me, and soon we will be out of this hellhole for good.

  Standing in the frame of my bedroom door, I watch him run up and down the stairs carrying several tools and an extension cord. I want to follow him back up there, but know I can’t push my luck. This is a lot to take in. Dad needs to process the discovery and then decide how he’s going to get us out of here.

  The sound of a saw comes to life, ripping through the old worn walls while I remain within the confines of my room. Above me mayhem erupts. Dad’s foul language echoes off the beams as he fights to uncover the secrets within the attic. It’s a nail biting process, and I can’t decide whether I’m better off hearing about it later or going up to watch it all unfold in front of me.

  A part of me wants to contact a paranormal investigation team to come out and explore, while another part doesn’t want anyone to have more ammunition to make fun of me for living here. I thought we were crazy from day one, but now that my worst fears have been proven true, all of the hair continues to stand on my arms and the back of my neck. Something has been here in this house with us. It’s watched us. There’s no privacy from it. We can’t hide or make it leave us alone now. We need to get out.

  My phone vibrating just about gives me a heart attack. It tumbles to the floor when it flies from my startled hands. I’m on my hands and knees crawling around until I retrieve it from underneath my bed.

  Without looking to see who the caller is, I answer. “Hello?”

  “Did your dad call the police?” Garver’s voice seems concerned.

  “What?”

  “Two cars went flying by me on the highway.”

  I stand and glance out the window, the sound of sirens in the far off distance. “I have no idea. I’ve been in my room since you left.”

  “What did he find? Did he search all the hidden rooms?”

  My stomach knots when I think about all of it. “Oh my God, what if they were all full of secrets? But why call the cops?” As I’m saying it I can hear two patrol cars barreling down our gravel and dirt lane. They come to a halt out front. By the time I make it to the window they’re approaching the porch on foot. “I have to go.”

  “Soph, wait...”

  The call ends abruptly. I have too much going on to answer his questions, like why my dad would call the cops in the first place. Did he find a dead body?

  Before I’m able to make it to the front door, my dad is already greeting the officers and leading them upstairs. He’s explaining the details that have transpired while they follow him to the attic. When he passes by, he shoots me a glare that says I need to remain in my room until this is dealt with. I realize finding a secret keeping room is a pretty big deal, and that my father is probably freaked out, but something tells me there’s even more than I’ve discovered and it gives me shivers down to my core.

  I knew this house was a bad omen. What if what we’ve uncovered haunts us forever? Haven’t we already suffered enough loss and tragedy? We deserve a break, not another wall of doom blocking us from moving forward.

  And what is wrong with Garver? Why does he care if the cops were called? Is he that paranoid that everyone in this town is out to get him? Is that why he spends some nights living in a shed in the middle of a freaking forest?

  My mind goes into a frenzy as I impatiently await further information on what is happening right above my head. More police arrive, until I’m sure every single officer in town is now in my attic. There’s too many voices and boots running up and down flights of stairs for me to be able to make out anything clearly. It’s like watching a scary movie with your eyes closed. I want to know so badly.

  While stuck in my room, I try to call Garver. No answer. I text him. No response. He doesn’t return my call either. It’s like he’s ghosting me and it makes me so freaking frustrated.

  It’s my fault. He keeps secrets. He says I know everything, but it’s a lie. I know only what he wants me to know.

  It takes the police two hours to completely vacate the premises. I find Dad in the kitchen, propped over the counter with his hands covering his face. Leaning on the opposite side, I sigh heavily and await his attention.

  He finally guides his eyes to meet mine.

  “What happened?”

  His hand runs through his dark hair. “Some sick and twisted shit happened in this house, Soph. I don’t know what to really say about it. You saw what I saw. I guess the damn rumors are true. It just sucks for us because it’s going to make it harder to get this place sold now.”

  “Why’d you call the cops? The person who slept in that room died a long time ago.”

  “I didn’t call the cops because of the room you discovered.”

  Now I’m wondering what I missed. “I don’t understand.” I’m picturing a dead body beneath the floorboards, withered away into a mummified shell of bones.

  “You were right about hearing things. I should’ve been more thorough when you first said something.”

  “Dad, what is it? What are you talking about?”

  He’s stalling with a reply. I know it’s going to be something bad, so I attempt to mentally prepare, although no amount of time can make this blow any less shocking.

  “Do you think you could stay at a friend’s house for a couple days?”

  He must assume I have girls I hang out with, aside from Garver, which inadvertently I do not have, so I just go with it anyway. “Yeah, why? What’s going on, Dad?”

  “After you found that hidden room, I decided to investigate the rest of the covered dormers. When I removed a section of wall overtop your bedroom, in particular, I found some disturbing evidence that someone has been staying there recently.”

  “Staying there?” I vividly recall Garver saying he found nothing, but maybe he couldn’t see inside and just wanted to reassure me.

  “Sophie, you were right about hearing things, but it doesn’t appear to be some otherworldly entity like you thought.”

  “Squirrels?” Please say it’s animals, because if it’s not I’m going to freak out.

  His head moves from side to side. “I’m afraid someone has been squatting in the space above your room and once the police arrived we found evidence that whoever it is has been watching you. There’s a latch, once opened, it lifts the ceiling in your closet like a trap door. There’s two pin holes at opposite sides that are situated near the ceiling light so it’s undetected.”

  I’m appalled. Like I’m literally feeling ill. This can’t be real. “A peeping Tom?”

  Dad seems just as horrified as he nods.

  “But how? How do you know it’s recent? It could be from the previous owners, right?”

  “The police think it might be a relative of the previous owners, but it’s definitely been happening since we moved in.”

  I need him to clarify. “Why would they think that? Is there some kind of calendar?”

  He turns and peers out the kitchen window as if to shield me from his disgusted reaction. “Whoever was there took a picture of us from the auction. There were copies of your face spread all over the wall. Your eyes are gouged out in all of them. There’s more.” He pauses and takes a sip from a glass of stale water. “There was a box of artifacts they’ve collected from your personal belongings. Some of your undergarments and even a towel from the bathroom.”

  I feel violated in the worst of ways and I know it’s eating away at my dad for not believing me. My God someone has been watching me, seeing my every move. They’ve spied on me and taken away my sense of security within my own home. I don’t know whether to cry or scream.

  Dad turns to face me. His rage filled eyes suggest he will fix this the best he can. “I need a couple days to secure this house, Sophie. I need to ensure this will never happen again, and I don’t want you here until I know it’s safe.”

  All I can do is nod. I’d like to blame him for bringing us here, but someone stalking us isn’t my father’s fault. Whoever this sicko is has nothing to do with my family. If he’s a previous owner, I hope they catch him and send him to jail where he belongs. “Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here until I know we’re alone and nothing else can get in.”

  I start to leave the room when he addresses me. “Soph, I’m so damn sorry I didn’t take you serious. If I find out who did this I’ll fucking break their neck for doing this to you.”

  He doesn’t mean he wants to murder someone, but the gist is my father’s main priority is to protect and keep me safe. For now it’s enough to offer a half-smile before exiting the kitchen. I’m not happy about any of this. My privacy has been violated in the worst of ways. I may never recover, but at least we are one step closer to getting out of this place. With Dad worried about selling, I know he still wants to move forward. I may never be able to sleep in this house again, or shower, but at least I know it’s not a ghost. I also know that my father won’t stop until he’s sure no one can ever break into the house again.

  Chapter 14

  Garver never replies to my calls or texts. After packing a bag my Dad drops me off at the bowling alley where I have to work. I assure him I’ve arranged to stay with a friend from school, but I’ve yet to figure out where I’ll be sleeping. I guess it could be possible I’ll be staying in the back room at my workplace. At least it’s close to school with modern amenities. If Garver had it his way, he’d take me to that scary rundown shack in the woods. Since I’m increasingly frustrated with his lack of communication, I’m hardly in the mood to make those kind of extreme sacrifices. Forest. Bugs. Critters. No thank you! Top that with everything I’ve gone through and I’m obligated to be indoors where there are locks on every door and means to call the cops if I need to.

  My boyfriend arrived an hour late to work. According to the note the boss left for me, he was running behind – no other details were given. This was another reason I knew Garver kept secrets from me. He’d been at my house and never mentioned having plans. Now he’s late for work.

  After checking my phone I find that I have no text messages either. The last time I heard from him he was telling me the cops were on the way.

  My patience is non-existent. The longer I wait, the more on edge I become. There’s got to be some kind of logical explanation, but with everything that has transpired throughout the day I’m overthinking all scenarios. It’s dark when I hear his voice over the intercom inviting bowlers to enter into a fifty-fifty raffle. The fact that he didn’t even say hello to me first rubs me the wrong way. For the time being, I’m forced to bite my tongue in order to do my job without pissing off the customers. It’s my responsibility to make them good food in a timely manner. Being that it’s league night, the place is packed with bowlers, their friends and even their children. We may only have a few lanes, but it can get crowded really quickly with the limited space.

  Garver avoids the food station the entire night. He doesn’t even look over in my direction, at least not that I notice. It’s not until the doors are locked for the night when I’m able to approach his secretive ass for the first time. I think the pent up emotions cause me to overreact. My voice is louder, and there’s a sense of rage with every word. “What the hell is up with you today, Garver? One minute you’re with me and the next you’re nowhere to be found. I tried calling, texting, and even waiting for you to come to me once you got here, but nothing. No response whatsoever. You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, but right now I don’t even like you enough to want to be near you. I am going through some crazy shit and you just step out on me.”

  He tries to calm my flailing arms, though I take a step back so he’s unable to reach me. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Soph, I can explain.”

  I turn as if nothing can change my mind. I’m so frustrated with the whole situation, and worst of all, it’s my father who has turned around and been there to protect me, not my so-called boyfriend. “I never should have agreed to this, Garver. I knew as soon as I opened my heart again it would be shattered.” Tears are welling in my eyes. I’m like a pool of emotions that’s overflowing into someone’s yard. It’s terrible how I can’t control the simplest feelings.

  He’s behind me now, but in the quiet of the space I can tell he’s close and he’s not leaving until I hear him out. Determined to give him the cold shoulder, no matter what his excuse, I remain positioned where I am, choosing to stare at the exit as if I can teleport myself anywhere but here. “So talk. Tell me what was so important that you had to ignore me in my time of need.”

  “Can you please look at me?” As soon as he asks it, he changes his mind. “No, don’t. Maybe it’s best if you don’t turn around. It’s hard enough to get this off my chest without you judging me.”

  Of course I turn around. I want him to feel as frustrated with me as I feel with him. “Just say it. I’m sick of being on edge. Tell me what the hell is worth treating me like I’m the enemy, especially when I’ve been the only person in this shit town that’s been nice to you.”

  “Fine, it’s just not easy to talk about. I suppose I’ve kept it from you because I was afraid you’d change your mind about me, and I didn’t want that to happen.”

  “Then give me a reason to stay with you.” It’s as simple as that. “Explain to me why I should be with a guy who doesn’t trust me or anyone else for that matter.”

  He’s scratching his head and giving me a look like he’s rethinking telling me anything at all. The worst part of it is that I’m probably going to have to spend the night here at the bowling alley, so I can’t even walk out and pretend he means nothing to me. I’m stuck here in this loop of lies, waiting for the truth.

  “I went to see my mom. There was an incident and it required my attention.”

  “Your mom? You never talk about her. I thought she was dead to be honest.”

  “She’s pretty much dead in a sense. She’s in the hospital.”

  For a brief second I think he’s a big fat liar, but the contortion on his face displays something else. I can’t tell if it’s shame or worry. It’s weird. Somehow I know this is one hundred percent truth. “What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “She’s been this way for a long time. Things happened. There was an accident. She never recovered. I didn’t want to tell you because you’d lost your mom and mine is still alive.”

  “She’s been in the hospital the whole time?”

  He looks away, taking a deep inhale of air, then exhaling. “Her medical condition may never change. She doesn’t even know I’m there when I visit. It’s hard being around her, seeing her that way.” His face contorts as he speaks of the woman who brought him into the world. There’s obviously remorse and pain, and even though I’m just learning of this news, I feel guilty pushing for more. As if I’ve now become the bad guy, I reach out and grasp his wrist, offering a half smile as an apology. “I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t want you to know. You have your own shit to deal with and knowing my stuff won’t change it. You shouldn’t have to worry about me too, so I just deal with it, like I always have.”

  “I thought you were hiding something that would hurt me. I get why you kept it from me, but you don’t have to. I know what it’s like to lose a mother. In a sense I suppose it feels that way for you.”

  He nods but doesn’t make eye contact.