Chapter 30

Lucky felt like a teenager sneaking back into the house after a night out, hoping their parents wouldn’t hear them skulking around, which was silly.

Until she made eye contact with Xander waiting for her in the sitting room.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” She smiled as if nothing were wrong. They never explicitly stated she couldn’t go out. She hadn’t technically broken any production rules. Semantically speaking, her conscience was clear.

His withering glare melted the smile clean off her face. He wasn’t mad! He was disappointed! Infinitely worse!

“I can explain,” she began.

“I know where you were. I’m perfectly capable of discerning why you were there,” he said. “What I do not understand is why you believe it’s acceptable not to perform your job as requested. Your presence is required in the house at night, every night. I granted you leave for an entire weekend. Was that not enough of a break?”

Lucky paused, deeply confused. His seething expression contrasted with his concerned tone. “Is that a rhetorical question or are you genuinely asking?”

He sighed. “Come sit down.”

She sat on his right on the green velvet couch again.

“I’ve personally been monitoring your self-tapes daily. Initially, I began to believe the house had no intentions of presenting specters to you, and then you stupidly asked for them.”

“Stupidity implies I made a mistake,” she countered. “I move with intention inside this house.”

He regarded her for a moment. “You’re not afraid of them.”

“They’re not real. Hennessee can’t use my brain against me. I thought it might be able to, but no.”

“You expect me to believe you’re not affected at all, whatsoever.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. The specters shocked the hell out of me at first.” She laughed. “I’m honestly not afraid. But seeing them is…upsetting. Extremely upsetting.” Her confession came out as a whisper.

“I suspected as much.” He nodded. “That’s why I instructed Maverick to stop you from following me. I didn’t want to risk my experience influencing yours in any way.”

“What does it make you see?”

“My stepmom. She asks me to follow her outside.” A faraway look clouded his eyes. “We sit at the back of the orchard, and she wants to talk to me about new projects at work. Asks me when I’m going to get married. Wonders why I don’t visit her more often.”

“Your stepmom, is she…”

“She died about a year ago. I know that isn’t her. She loved this house, more than the rest of us. I think that’s why it uses her to upset me, as you put it.”

So, they both saw family members. As did Bobbi, and even Eunice had heard her deceased mom. Was that enough to be considered a pattern? Damn, she really wished she knew what Brian had seen. “It wants something. I can’t figure out what,” she said, frowning. “What do you think? Any guesses?”

“I don’t need to guess.” He leveled her with a cool stare. “That’s what I’m paying you to find out, isn’t it?”

Lucky snorted. “No? I’m supposed to be the titular Caretaker slash Final Girl. You’re only getting a two-for-one investigative special because it suits my agenda.” She was only half-joking. “It’s been my choice. That was the deal, right?”

His unexpected wry smile nearly sent her spiraling. “For someone so clever, I’m truly astonished you have yet to figure me out. I suppose the internet didn’t provide after all.”

“I’ve been busy,” she admitted. “I haven’t had time. You’re not exactly my top priority, Xander.”

“That’s a shame,” he muttered as he adjusted his gold cuff links. “The Caretaker had become troublesome and much bigger than we initially intended. Bobbi and Brian were fantastic on camera but ultimately ordinary. Eunice was exceptional but incompatible. After her departure I knew if we continued on the same path we’d end up with an endless parade of caretakers, never making it beyond three nights. I was venting to an associate during dinner when they mentioned your name. They forwarded an email you’d sent them soliciting private funding.”

Lucky stared at him with a bewildered expression. “Which associate? Who shared my email?” Because ‘an associate’ told her less than nothing. She’d sent hundreds of emails over the past two years with her supernatural researcher résumé, begging for a chance. And money.

“Let’s just say they’re very invested in the progress you’ve made thus far,” he said. “It didn’t take long for me to find out more about your investigations and I didn’t believe any of it. But”—he held up his index finger—“I had a feeling and I couldn’t shake it. So, I instructed my employee, your contact, to leak the production information to you. I knew you would apply. And I knew if you could convince my team of your suitability for the show, that at some point we would end up right here.”

Xander, the skeleton, searching—always searching. He’d found them all, just as Chase said.

Lucky almost didn’t know what to say to any of that. She’d lied during her interview for nothing, but her pride wouldn’t let him take credit for her initiative and work. “None of that means you hired me to investigate. I’m doing it on my own.”

“Then let’s change that,” he said, holding her gaze with his determined hazel eyes. “Hennessee has reacted to you in ways it never has with me. You were as right as I was: you are perfect for this job, specifically. I need you here at night communicating with the house to find out more about it. I cannot do this without you.

“We’ll renegotiate the contract to increase your pay. I’m sure you’ll find my offer very generous. Whatever supplies or equipment you require are already yours. Your residence here will last for as long as you need with no interruptions, even if that exceeds your initial thirty days.”

Holy shit. This was it. All her hard work had paid off because she officially had an investor on her side. An investor with resources who believed in her. She grabbed the back of the couch to steady herself.

“But what about the show?” She paused—two sentences in one breath was a bit too much for her overwhelmed state. “Are we still filming it?”

“That will continue as well, yes. Self-tapes every twelve hours, more if you can manage it. Any additional footage you record such as vlogging or incidents will be welcomed but not mandatory.”

Lucky nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I—” Breathe in. Breathe out. “Thank you. Let’s do it. I agree.”

“Excellent,” he said, looking away. He began staring out the front window. “There is, however, one more thing we need to discuss. I’m thrilled to see how happy Maverick has been of late. I have no issues with your relationship, but he distracts you. Severely so. I need you to separate from him for the time being.”

“Excuse me?” She blinked at him, taken aback. “Separate how?”

“Physically.” Xander turned back to her, expression neutral but immovable. “Maverick cannot come here, and you cannot go there for the duration of your investigation.”

What in the Faustian bargain?

Lucky’s chest felt tight. “Xander, you can’t ask me to do that.”

She and Maverick had already made plans. Early-afternoon Sunday dinner. Cheering for Rebel at her first swim meet. Shopping for birthday party decorations. A joint interview with a local medium who claimed to use psychography. A trip to the pier to go on a whale-watching boat tour. Gengar’s follow-up vet appointment. Maverick’s turn to take Rebel and Riley to the movies.

Xander at least seemed to understand the gravity of the situation he placed her in. “This is, and always will be, a voluntary project. Whether or not you accept is up to you.”

Lucky paced the length of her suite, from window to door and back again. She concentrated on her breathing, the feel of her phone in her hand, and the sun-warmed hardwood floor under her feet. Her center, her gut, had been thrown so far out of whack she didn’t know if she’d ever find equilibrium again. Because it wasn’t one side against the other—each side refused to let the other go. She wanted both. She had to have both.

“Maverick, hey.”

“Hey,” he answered. “I’m assuming you made it to the house okay?”

“I did. Sorry, I meant to text you when I got here, but I got sidetracked.”

“Did the raccoons attack the garbage again?”

“Hopefully not. I haven’t checked yet.” She sank onto the bed, covering her eyes with her hand. “We need to talk.”

“Uh-oh. That sounds serious.” His nervous chuckle caught her off guard. “What could’ve possibly happened in two hours?”

Xander decided to make my dream come true and ruin my life all in the same breath.“We—I—” She clutched her stomach, doubling over. “I need to focus on Hennessee. I’m so close to figuring out its secrets—I can’t spend time with you right now.”

A loud thud temporarily jolted Lucky out of her misery. Her mason jar of purple flowers had fallen to the ground. Fortunately, it didn’t shatter.

“Right now, as in today?”

The hope in his voice made her so lightheaded she felt faint. Her nearly full jar began to roll across the floor, leaving a trail of flowers as if it were bleeding.

“Right now, as in until I’m done. No more overnights or day trips or anything.” She refused to call him a distraction. But until she finished her work there was only room for one central figure.

“Two weeks?”

“Or longer. Xander wants to expand the scope of the show. He’s funding my research.”

“So, I don’t get to see you until you figure out—what? Why Hennessee House exists? That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. But this is my dream, Maverick. All my plans are out in the open and Xander is onboard. This is huge for me. I can’t just walk away.”

“You can. Finish your thirty days and leave. The job is to live in the house and walk away at the end. You’re choosing to make it more than that.”

“Because I can do this. I know I can. I’m not making this decision lightly,” she said. “We’re not breaking up. We’re not even taking a break. It’ll be like a long-distance relationship. We’ll talk every day, just like before. Every morning—that doesn’t have to change.”

Maverick remained silent for several heartbeats. “What about nights?”

“That’s when Hennessee is most active.” She paused. “It’s been showing me specters.”

His harsh, stunned laughter slashed through her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry, because I’m not afraid. That’s a large part of why we’re expanding. The specters serve a specific purpose. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m going to find out.”

“Setting aside not being able to see you, what about the risks? You’ll be there alone. No one to back you up.”

She shook her head as if he could see it. “I’ve worked and trained for this, exactly like that—on my own.”

“What if something happens? What if you get in over your head or the house tricks you? That house put Eunice in the hospital, Lucky.”

“Those are risks I’m willing to take.”

That laughter again, undercut by fear and anxiety this time.

“I believe in myself. Maverick, please—I need you to believe in me too.”

“I hate this,” he said. “We’re supposed to make decisions together and you’re deciding for us. I don’t agree with any of this. I believe in you, but I don’t agree.”

After their call Lucky ended up curled in the fetal position on her bed, simultaneously feeling elation and despair. Wallowing at its finest. She lay in that position so long, her hip began to hurt. Reluctantly, she rolled onto her other side and ended up facing the window. The sky had begun to transition to dark blue with clouds barely reflecting the light. Burnt oranges, deep reds, and brilliant yellow stacked together in a neat block as the sun began to set.

Hennessee’s specters were coming.

One thought sliced through her wallowing—not him.

Not him. Not Maverick.

If Hennessee showed people the worst parts of their mind, if it really wanted to make her suffer, she knew in her heart it’d be Maverick now. It’d make him say all the terrible things she’d heard before from others. Because deep down, she knew she’d been waiting for him to say them too. Because eventually, everyone always did.

Abject fear gripped her instantly like icy fingers around her spine. If he…even knowing it wasn’t real…it would ruin her.

She refused to let the house taint her memories of him.

Lucky sat up and closed her eyes to focus. The first night she saw specters she’d been obsessing over her estranged family. What would happen if she focused on them again? What if she banished all the thoughts of Maverick from her mind?

Reggie Reggie Reggie Reggie, she mentally chanted. She thought of how he used to push her on the swing at their apartment complex’s play structure. How he patiently taught her how to play his video games with him. Waking up in the hospital to him asleep and holding her hand because she’d blacked out and hit her head on the ground. The journal they shared and the secret writing code they used so their parents couldn’t read it. How she always helped him with homework by doing it for him. Cheering in the stands at his first basketball game only for him to ditch her afterward to hang out with his friends who didn’t like his weird sister. The cruelest thing he’d ever said to her—her final straw and the reason she’d gone low contact.

Reggie, she thought. I want to see Reggie.

Lucky recalled his reading from deep in her archive. It was her most prized possession because she’d read him so young. Her ability was still developing and so was he, and they’d grown together.

Before she’d figured out her ring theory, she used to think of layered readings like candy because Reggie had always been so sweet. He personally had a soft six-year-old center, a crunchy ten-year-old middle, and a thirteen-year-old hard shell.

Reggie settled into being a dreamer with big lofty goals of greatness. But while his head was in the clouds, his feet were firmly planted on the ground—a rare combination meaning he had the potential to make things happen. Whatever he wanted, he’d find a way to get it.

Their dad dying changed him. He became more closed off to protect himself, pushing everyone away by any means necessary, never allowing himself to get close to anyone again as he gave in to his intense fears. Death couldn’t hurt him again without love.

Naturally, Lucky had to be the first one to go. She knew that and held on for as long as she could anyway because it was Reggie.

When the specter knocked on her door, she held her breath as she opened it.

“Lucky Bug,” Specter-Reggie said.

Experiment #1 / Status: Complete

Discovery #1: Confirmed

Hennessee allowed her to choose the form the specters took. Choose and despair.