Hemlock by Kiersten Modglin

Author:Kiersten Modglin [Modglin, Kiersten]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2023-08-30T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

NOW

I take the photo over to my house, comparing it to my porch. It’s definitely the same one. But why does Tucker have it?

The movers arrive shortly after I get home, so I don’t have much time to dwell on it. I show them to the rooms so they know where to unload the rest of my things and then sit back, overseeing and generally feeling awkward about the entire situation. Standing around doing nothing, I feel lazy, but when I try to help, I seem to be in the way.

Plus, my mind keeps drifting back to Tucker and the photograph.

Hours later, when the movers leave, I make my way through the maze of my furniture and belongings, somewhat relieved to smell the scent of home in this new space.

I study my surroundings, trying to decide where I should start. When I notice a box labeled Bedroom that’s mistakenly been left on the kitchen floor, I cross the room toward it and haul it to its rightful place.

When I return to the kitchen, the light is turned off.

I freeze. It’s still light outside, so it’s not like I’m in the dark, but I could swear I just had the light on. I know I did.

No.

I refuse to play into the fear and paranoia.

I flip on the light, tear open a box, turn on one of my favorite motivational podcasts on my phone, and set to work.

I’m an hour in and four boxes down when I realize I’m sweating. I stop, wipe sweat from my brow, and go to get a bottle of water from the fridge. When I do, I glance at the thermostat, stopping in my tracks when I spot the temperature in red on the screen.

Eighty-two degrees?

Who would’ve ever turned it up so high?

I cover my face with my hands, then look again. Still eighty-two.

No wonder I’m sweating. I start for the thermostat when I sense a presence behind me. Every hair on my body stands on end.

No.

No.

No.

Please no.

I hear footsteps and squeeze my eyes shut. Then, I spin around quickly, a scream caught in my throat.

“Ah!”

“What the—”

“Clayton?” I cry. “What are you doing here?” I clutch my hand to my chest, so relieved to see him standing in my kitchen I could burst into tears.

“I knocked, but the door was open. You didn’t hear me?”

I shake my head, reaching for my phone. “I guess I didn’t hear it over my podcast.” I pause it, noticing a missed call. It must’ve come through when I was in my bedroom unloading things.

“Oh. Well, I tried to call you. I was on my way to town and thought, since I hadn’t heard from you after…the other night, I’d come and see if you wanted to get lunch.”

“I’d love to,” I say, “but the movers just dropped off all my stuff. Any chance you’d like to help me unpack instead?”

He grins. “Can I pick the music?”

“Only if it’s not that Clayton Beckett guy,” I tell him with a laugh.

“He’s the worst,” he agrees with a glimmer in his eyes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.