Haunting Adeline (Book 1)

Chapter 4 (part 2)

~THE MANIPULATOR~

"Not gonna lie, I'm scared for you," Daya admits, lingering in front of the door. She spent the entirety of the day cleaning out the house with me. I rented a dumpster, and we loaded the suck 46/499 neither of us could lift our arms.

Ten hours and several trips to Goodwill later, we finished cleaning out the manor. My grandparents were never hoarders, but it's easy to accumulate trinkets and items you think you'll need but never do.

After Nana died, my mom went through the entire house and either sold or donated most of the things in here. Otherwise, it could've taken weeks, if not months.

"Don't be, I'll be fine," I say.

It took me the better part of the day, but after downing a few more mixed drinks, I got up enough courage to tell Daya about the whiskey glass. It would be wrong to hide that someone came into my house while she was in it. It wouldn't be fair not to give her the option to leave.

She freaked, of course, and then spent the rest of the day trying to convince me to stay at her place. I won't budge. I'm tired of people attempting to run me out of this house. First my parents, namely my mother, and now some sick fu.cker who gets off on being a creep.

I'm scared, but I'm also stu.pid.

So, I'm not leaving.

Honestly, I was surprised Daya stuck it out in the manor. Her eyes were shifty, and she probably said the phrase what was that noise? a few thousand times.

But we haven't had an incident since.

Now she lingers at my door, refusing to leave me here alone.

"Let me stay with you," she says again for the millionth time.

"No. I'm not putting you in danger."

She snaps her fingers at me, anger flashing in her green eyes. "See, that right there. That's a fu.cking problem. If you consider me in danger if I stayed here, then what does that make you?" I open my mouth to answer, but she cuts me off. "In danger! That makes you in danger too, Addie. Why would you stay here?"

I sigh and rub my hand down my face, growing frustrated. It's not Daya's fault. I'd be freaking the hell out and questioning her sanity

too if roles were reversed.

But I refuse to run. I can't explain it, but it feels like I'm letting them win. I've only been back in Parsons Manor for a week, and already

I'm being pushed out of it. I can't explain why I have the need to stick it out. Test this mystery person. Challenge them and show them I'm not scared of them.

Though that's a big fat f*****g lie. I'm absolutely terrified. However, I'm just as stubborn. And as already established—stupid, too. But I can't find it in me to care right now.

Ask me later when they're standing over my bed watching me sleep, I'll feel differently, I'm sure.

"I'll be fine, Daya. I promise. I'm sleeping with a butcher knife under my pillow. I'll barricade myself in the bedroom if I must. Who

even knows if they'll come back?" My argument is weak, but I suppose I'm not even really trying at this point. I'm not f*****g leaving.

Why is it that being in public places and social settings make me want to light myself on fire, but when someone breaks into my house, I feel brave enough to stay?

It doesn't make sense in my head, either.

"I don't feel okay leaving you here. If you die, the rest of my life will be ruined. I'll live on in misery, plagued by the what if questions."

With all the drama she learned from theater, she looks up to the ceiling and puts a contemplative finger on her chin. "Would she still be alive if I had just dragged the b***h out of the house by her hair?" she wonders aloud in a whimsical voice, mocking her possible future self and me.

I frown. I'd rather not be dragged out by my hair. It took me a long time to grow it out.

"If they come back, I'll call the police immediately."

Exasperatedly, she drops her hand and rolls her eyes, her

mannerisms saturated with sass. She's angry with me.

Understandably so.

"If you die, I'm going to be so pissed at you, Addie."

I give her a weak smile.

"I'm not going to die."

I hope.

She growls, grabs my hand roughly, and pulls me into a fierce hug. She's letting me go, and all I can feel is immense relief tinged with a little regret.

"Call me if they come back."

"I will," I lie. She leaves without another word, slamming the door behind her.

I heave out a breath, grab a knife from the drawer, and tiredly make my way into the bathroom. I need a long, hot shower, and if the creep chooses now to interrupt me, I'll be happy to stab them for it.

~~~

May 16th, 1944

John has been questioning me lately. Always wondering what I'm doing when I'm home alone. I tell him I take care of the house, and crochet. Sera is fourteen and can do her own school work now. So I just make sure he comes home to a hot meal. My normal, mandane wifely duties.

He's suspicious of me.

He's starting to notice a change in my behavior.

I can't deny, I've been acting different lately. Ever since the strange man came into my life. Through my window.

He hasn't spoken to me yet. It doesn't matter how many times I beg him to. Asking him what his name is. Where he came from. How he knows me. What he wants from me. None of it successful.

I want to hear kim speak so badly that I've began to offer him things. Bad things.

A kiss. A touch. He smiles at me, but doesn't concede. His fingers whisper across my cheek, and then he walks away, leaving me wanting for the next time he comes around.