Haunting-Adeline

“Addie, he could s ll be here. We need to call the police and leave.
Now.”
I bite my lip, two halves warring inside me. I want to look for him,
confront him, and stab him in the eye a few mes. But I can’t endanger
Daya more than I already have. I can’t keep being stupid about this.
Relen ng, I nod my head and follow her out of the manor. The brisk air
doesn’t even penetrate the ice se ling in my bones.
What else did he do? A snarl forms when I realize that he probably went
into my bedroom. Touched my underwear. Maybe even stole some.
The operator's voice cuts through my thoughts. I was so zoned out, I
hadn’t realized Daya called the police for me.
She describes the situa on, and a er a few minutes, the operator
dispatches an officer and lets us know it’ll take him twenty minutes to get
to us.
I know the stalker isn’t here anymore. I know it in my bones. But I’m
hoping he’s a criminal and in the system, that way his DNA from the
whiskey glass will iden fy him.
But just like I know he’s no longer here, I know it won’t be that easy to
catch him either.
“Come home with me tonight,” Daya says. We're both red and stonecold
sober a er talking to the police for two hours.
They searched the house, and he was nowhere to be found. They did
take prints from the whiskey glass to see if they could get a match.
I’m exhausted, so I nod my head.
Her house is twenty minutes away, and it’s a good thing I tailed her the
en re me, or else I might have lost focus and drove without direc on.
Daya lives in a quaint house in a nice, quiet neighborhood. She parks the
car and we both slump our way into the house.
Her house would be fairly empty if it weren’t for the furniture and the
thousands of computers everywhere. She takes her work seriously, and