I gasped, slammed the door shut, and ran.

Down the stairs, fast, panic bursting through my chest like fire. But as I hit the bottom step, hands clamped down on my shoulders.

I screamed and spun around, but no one was there.

My body shook. Pulse screaming in my ears, breath ragged. But I kept running. Two steps at a time. I threw the front door open and sprinted out—

But the world spun.

And I was back inside the house.

“What the fuck?” I shouted, turning, trying the door again—grabbing the handle, pulling—running again.

But every time I crossed the threshold, the world twisted.

And I was back inside.

This house wasn’t just haunted—it washaunting me.

I was shaking, uncontrollably. I tried again, sprinting toward the door, but it was useless. And then, I saw it.

At the top of the stairs.

The doll.

It tilted its head.

“I can see you,”it whispered.“I can see you.”

Giggling followed, high-pitched and wrong.

I scrambled for my phone, hands shaking, nearly dropping it. My trembling finger foundTroyin my contacts.

He answered almost instantly.

“T-Troy,” I whispered, voice barely there. “I…”

A sob ripped out of me.

“Can you come get me?”

“What the fuck?” he barked. “I had to open the coffee shop by myself today—where the hellareyou?”

“Please,” I begged, voice cracking. “Someone’s here. I—I think they’re trying to get me.”

“Get you?” he sounded more confused now than angry. “Whereareyou?”

“I’ll send you the address.” My hands barely worked. I dropped a pin and sent it through the trembling fog of panic.

“…Massachusetts?” he asked, voice softening into concern. Then a sigh. “Okay. I’m coming.”

The call ended.

The battery icon blinked red.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and pressed my spine to the wall, trying to stay upright. My lip quivered.

I drifted back into the kitchen like a ghost of myself, trying to piece it together.