Chapter 2 - Footsteps in the Dust of Decades
The rain continued to lash the house, but inside the living room, the atmosphere had turned chillingly silent. Mark refused to pull his gaze away from the distant window where the ghostly silhouette had briefly flickered. He rubbed the back of his neck, his hand trembling slightly against the rough fabric of his green sweater.
Sarah, we need to check the property deeds, Mark said, his voice tense as he turned to face his wife. That house was sealed after the tragedy. Nothing should be in there.
You're talking about a cold case from two decades ago, Mark, Sarah retorted, crossing her arms tightly over her white button-down shirt. Leave it alone. It's just a coincidence, or a vagrant seeking shelter from the storm.
A vagrant doesn't carry a pristine white stuffed toy that matches Lily's exact toy down to the missing button on the left ear, Mark argued, his voice sharp. How do you explain that coincidence?
Lily sat quietly on the sofa, her blue eyes darting between her arguing parents. She hugged her bunny closer, feeling the heavy, suffocating weight of their unspoken fears pressing down on the room.
Can we turn the lights on brighter, please? Lily whispered, her small voice cutting through the adult tension. It's too dark in the corners.
Sarah immediately knelt beside her daughter, softening her expression despite the lingering panic in her chest. Of course, sweetie. Let's go make some warm cocoa in the kitchen together, okay?
Mark didn't follow them into the kitchen. Instead, he walked slowly toward the basement door, pulling the brass handle with a soft click. He reached down and felt around the shelf where his father’s old weather-resistant binoculars sat collecting dust. If the authorities wouldn't take a panicked call seriously tonight, he would gather his own proof before morning light broke over the flooded valley.
As he raised the heavy binoculars to his eyes and aimed them back toward the abandoned Miller house across the surging water, a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the entire landscape. Through the magnified lenses, Mark didn't just see a window. He saw a small face pressed against the glass from the inside, staring directly back at him with an expression of heartbreaking, desperate plea. And resting on the dusty windowsill right beside the child was an exact duplicate of Lily's white bunny.
Mark lowered the binoculars with a shaky breath, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
May you like
Sarah, you need to come see this right now, Mark called out into the quiet hallway.
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