Chapter 28
Camila POV
I tossed and turned in my bed, the sheets twisting around my legs like they had a vendetta against me. The clock my nightstand blinked mockingly: 2:17 AM. Perfect. Another sleepless night.
i groaned, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. Maybe a snack would help. Or water. Anything to give me something to do besides lie here in the dark with my overthinking brain.
Pulling on a cardigan over my pajamas, I slipped out of my room, careful not to make a sound. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that makes you feel like even the smallest creak of the floorboards will wake up the whole world.
The kitchen was dimly lit, moonlight streaming through the large windows and casting a bluish glow on the countertops. I opened the fridge, squinting against the sudden brightness.
Milk. Leftover casserole. A sad–looking bag of lettuce. Ugh. I wasn’t in the mood for anything fancy. My eyes landed on a container of strawberries in the corner, their red color vivid under the fridge light.
Grabbing a handful, I shut the fridge door with a soft thud and leaned against the counter, popping one into my mouth. The sweetness was a nice distraction, but the silence of the house still felt… unsettling.
Then I heard it. A faint sound, like something scraping or crunching, coming from outside.
I froze, my heart thudding in my chest. For a second, I debated just ignoring it. People always die in horror movies because they go towards the creepy noises, not away from them. But curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it, I was tiptoeing toward the window.
The curtains were slightly ajar, and I peeked through the gap. At first, I couldn’t see much- just the driveway illuminated by the pale glow of the porch light. But then, movement caught my eye.
It was… Ethan.
And he wasn’t just standing there. He was hunched over his car, something in his hand glinting in the light.
I squinted, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. He raised his arm and stabbed- yes, stabbed- something into his car tire. My jaw dropped. Was that… a nail? What was he doing?
I pressed closer to the window, my breath fogging up the glass. He stabbed the tire again, the hiss of escaping air faint but audible. His movements were quick, almost frantic, like he was trying to destroy the thing as fast as possible.
Then he stopped.
Slowly, he straightened, and for a terrifying moment, it felt like he was looking right at me.
I stumbled back from the window, my heart hammering. Shit. Did he see me?
I forced myself to breathe, leaning against the wall for support. Maybe he didn’t see me. Maybe he was just around. I mean, who even stabs their own car tire in the middle of the night? What kind of unhinged…
Nope. Not thinking about that.
ing
1/2
Chapter 28
I padded back to the kitchen, my footsteps unnervingly loud in the silence, I towed the rest of the viris the sink and grabbed a glass of water, my hands shaking slightly as I filled t
Then, footsteps.
They were heavy and deliberate, growing louder as they approached the house.
I froze, my grip tightening on the glass.
The footsteps stopped, and I heard the faint creak of the front door opening and closing. My pulse rated, and i debated whether to go back upstairs or stay in the kitchen and pretend I was just here for a midnight snack.
Before I could decide, I heard another sound- a soft thud, like something being set down on the floor. I stayed rooted to the spot, straining to hear more, but the house fell silent again.
Swallowing hard, I set the glass down on the counter and made my way back upstairs, every creak of the floorboards under my feet making me wince.
When I finally reached my room, I shut the door quietly behind me and leaned against it, exhaling shakily
What the hell was Ethan up to now? Seriously, who in their right mind looks at their car, grabs something sharp, and thinks, You know what this situation needs? A flat tire.
Honestly, every second in this house feels like a crash course in losing my mind. It’s like living in a psychological thriller, except I’m the clueless protagonist slowly unraveling while Ethan plays the unhinged mastermind.
And you know what’s worse? A tiny part of me wasn’t even surprised. Because at this point, nothing Ethan does shocks me anymore- it just makes me question my own sanity.
The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, stabbing my eyes like it had a personal vendetta against me. I groaned, rolling over and burying my face in the pillow. Maybe if I ignored the world long enough, it would disappear.
Unfortunately, my alarm had other plans. The shrill sound shattered the last remnants of sleep, and I slapped the snooze button with a vengeance.
“Alright, alright, I’m up,” I muttered to no one, dragging myself out of bed.
I stumbled into the bathroom, the tiles cold against my bare feet as I flicked on the harsh overhead light. Big mistake. My reflection stared back at me like a ghost haunting its own house. My hair was an absolute disaster- frizzy, matted, and defying gravity in places it really shouldn’t. Dark circles clung under my eyes like I hadn’t slept in a century, and my face… God, my face. It was pale, blotchy, and had this weird puffiness that screamed “I gave up.” Honestly, I looked like I had been run over by a truck, then reversed on for good measure.
