House no.9

Chapter Three

Harper broke the silence first.

"Well... are we just going to stare at it?"

"I was hoping it'd disappear."

She laughed softly. "Unfortunately, that's not how boxes work."

"How do you know?"

She gave me a look.

I walked over and knelt beside the box, running my fingers along the edges. It was worn and slightly dusty, but not old enough to have been sitting there for years.

"There isn't even a label," I murmured.

"No address either."

Harper carefully lifted it onto the coffee table.

"It doesn't feel very heavy."

I nodded.

"Open it."

"You open it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You were the one who wanted to know what was inside."

"I changed my mind."

With a small smile, Harper lifted the lid.

Inside were several old books wrapped neatly in brown paper, a folded blanket, and a small envelope resting on top.

"That's... disappointing," Harper admitted.

I picked up the envelope.

There was nothing written on the front.

Slowly, I opened it.

A single sheet of paper slipped into my hand.

It was a receipt.

I frowned.

"A grocery receipt?"

Harper leaned over my shoulder.

"From three days ago."

"So whoever packed this must've left it by mistake."

She shrugged.

"Maybe the moving company mixed up our boxes."

"That makes sense."

It was the first explanation that actually sounded reasonable.

We repacked everything exactly as we'd found it.

"I'll call the movers tomorrow," Harper said, carrying the box toward the hallway.

"If it belongs to someone else, they'll probably be looking for it."

I smiled.

"Good idea."

For the rest of the evening, neither of us gave the box another thought.

Outside, rain began tapping softly against the windows.

House No. 9 felt quieter than ever.

Comfortably quiet.

The kind of quiet that makes you believe everything is perfectly normal.

Neither of us noticed the small shipping label tucked underneath the box.

The ink had almost faded completely.

But one line was still readable.

Delivered to: House No. 9.

No recipient listed.

The rain continued long into the night, drumming softly against the windows.

Harper stretched her arms above her head and let out a yawn.

"I'm calling it a night."

"Already?" I teased.

She gave me a tired look.

"We've been unpacking for three days, Sage. My back is threatening to file a complaint."

I laughed.

"Fair enough."

She disappeared upstairs while I stayed behind, wanting to organize the last few books scattered across the coffee table.

The house was unusually quiet.

Not eerie.

Just... quiet.

The kind of silence that settled over everything after a long day.

I stacked the books one by one before noticing one lying on the floor beneath the couch.

"How did you get down there?" I muttered.

Kneeling, I reached underneath and pulled it out.

It wasn't one of ours.

The cover was faded, with no title or author's name.

Only the number 9 was stamped into the leather.

I frowned.

"Harper?"

No answer.

She was probably already half asleep.

I turned the book over in my hands.

It looked old, but well cared for.

Maybe the previous owners had forgotten it.

I'd ask the realtor about it tomorrow.

Placing it on the coffee table, I switched off the living room lights and headed upstairs.

Just before I reached the top step, I glanced back.

The book was still exactly where I'd left it.

I smiled at myself.

"You're letting this house get to you."

With that, I climbed the rest of the stairs and closed the bedroom door behind me.

Downstairs, the house settled with a quiet creak.

The leather-bound book remained on the coffee table.

Its cover slowly eased open...

...as though someone had turned the first page.

No one was there.