At first, just slightly—like a tremor. Then again. Her eyelids fluttered, slowly, like they were too heavy to lift. And then, inch by inch, she opened her eyes.
My heart jumped so violently I thought I might faint.
I leaned forward immediately, reaching for the call button.
But before I could press it, her hand shot out and grabbed mine.
Her grip was weak—but desperate.
Her lips trembled as she spoke, her voice rough, barely there:
“Call the police… before they come back.”
Everything inside me went still.
“What are you saying?” I whispered. “Before who comes back?”
Her eyes—God, I’ll never forget her eyes. They were filled with a kind of fear that doesn’t fade. The kind that stays long after the danger is gone.
“They did this to me,” she said. “Ethan… and Lauren.”
I shook my head immediately.
“No… no, that’s not possible. You’re confused—”
“I didn’t fall,” she insisted, her grip tightening. “They gave me something. In my tea. I remember the taste… bitter. Then the stairs… I couldn’t move. They pushed me.”
I felt like the floor had disappeared beneath me.
“They want the house,” she continued. “The apartments. If they know I woke up… you’re next.”
I didn’t sleep that night.