You're expecting something to grab me from behind, aren't you?
I can feel it. Your anticipation.
Her head tilted slowly… then further… then further—until I heard something snap inside her neck.
But she didn't stop smiling.
"Leo," she whispered, black liquid dripping from her mouth onto her pajamas. "He doesn't like when you notice him."
I didn't ask who.
I already knew.
The tall shape in the photographs.
The blur behind every memory.
The thing standing—
Right.
Behind.
Me.
You'd look.
You know you would.
So I did too.
Slowly.
Slow enough to regret it.
There was nothing there.
Of course not.
There never is ,when you look directly.
That's the rule.
You've seen enough horror to know that.
When I turned back to Ivy—
Her bed was empty.
The sheets were dry.
No black liquid.
No cracked neck.
Just strange silence.
And from downstairs…
Mom was humming.... 'Hmm hmm hmmm'