Evie’s POV
The darkness in the living room was absolute, the kind of heavy, suffocating black that made you feel like you were underwater. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, a leftover rhythm from the demon-possession flick I’d just forced Tristan to sit through.
"Okay, fine," I whispered, reaching out blindly until my fingers brushed the rough fabric of his sweatshirt. "I’m relenting. Give me your hand."
I felt his fingers fumble for mine, locking tight with a grip that was bordered on a death march. He was shaking just a tiny bit.
"Took you long enough," Tristan muttered, his voice an octave higher than usual. "I wasn't going in there alone."
"Shh," I hissed, squeezing his hand. "We go together. But listen to me, Tristan. If anything jumps out of the shadows, or if a ghos
