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“Uh, hey. Can I help you?”

“Is Kristy home?” someone responded, her tone emotionless.

“Kristy? I think you’ve got the wrong house, sweetie,” Naija answered.

Silence followed.

Then, without another word, Gabe shut the door and locked it. They both returned to the dining room, Gabe shaking his head as Naija looked back over her shoulder.

“That was weird as shit,” she said, sliding back into her seat.

“Who was it?” Ryan asked, setting his drink down.

“Some woman,” Naija replied, then frowned as if considering something.

“What did she look like?” I asked, my stomach twisting with unease.

Something about the voice had stuck in my mind, a faint familiarity I couldn’t quite place.

Gabe shrugged, looking as unbothered as ever. “...A woman?”

I rolled my eyes. “Wow, thanks for the vivid description.”

Cherish snorted, shaking her head. “You’re an idiot, Gabe.”

“I don’t know what she looked like!” he defended himself. “She was just… a woman.”

“Helpful,” Daniella said dryly, shuffling the cards in her hands.

I tried to focus on the game again, but my mind kept circling back to the voice.

It had sounded so familiar. The unease lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. I didn’t realize my hands were gripping the table until I caught Ryan’s tipsy gaze across from me.

His expression mirrored my own unease, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as though he was trying to piece something together.

He leaned forward slightly, and before he even opened his mouth, I knew what he was going to say.

“There’s no way it’s her,” he stated. “That place was like… hours back.”

“Who?” Daniella asked, her curiosity piqued as she glanced between us.

Ryan hesitated, and when I didn’t respond fast enough, he filled in the gap. “That girl from the gas station. The one who was creeping around the back.”

“But itdidlook like her,” Naija replied slowly.

Liza shook her head, her blonde hair bouncing as she dismissed the idea outright. “Can’t be the same girl. No way. Why would she be all the out here?”

“Right,” I said, more to reassure myself than anyone else.

“Let’s just finish the game,” Jason chimed in, clearly wanting to keep things light.

He grabbed the deck of cards and began shuffling, but even with alcohol, my nerves were already shot.

CHAPTER NINE

Another twenty minutes passed, and just as I was beginning to let my guard down, the knock came again. This time, it was sharper. Louder. I jumped, my heart racing as I stood up. Before I could even think of going to open the door, Cherish’s hand shot out, gripping my arm.

“I don’t think so.”