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The next morning, the house felt even heavier than before. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the floorboards as I wandered downstairs. Mom and Dad were already busying themselves with more unpacking, pretending that everything was normal. But last night's encounter clung to me, the boy's image burned into my mind. His pale skin, that unsettling smile—it hadn't been a dream. I was sure of it.

Violet was sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed, staring out the window. Her long, blonde hair hung loose around her face, catching the early morning light in a way that almost made her seem at peace. But I knew better. She had the same look in her eyes that I did—the look of someone who had felt the weight of this place too.

"Did you sleep?" she asked without turning to look at me.

I shrugged, pouring myself a glass of water. "Not really."

Violet let out a soft laugh, one that didn't hold any humor. "Yeah, me neither." She finally turned to face me, her expression hard to read. "I thought I heard something outside last night. Weird, right? It's probably nothing, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. "This place gives me the creeps."

I wanted to tell her about the boy, about how I had seen him standing right outside my window, but something held me back. I didn't want to sound crazy. Not yet. Instead, I just nodded, letting the silence settle between us.

As we sat there, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone—or something—passed by the kitchen window, just out of view. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Violet noticed the change in my expression.

"What?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I saw something," I muttered, my eyes glued to the window. "Outside."

Violet shot up from her chair, her face instantly serious. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Someone's out there."

Without waiting for me, Violet stormed toward the back door. She'd always been braver than me, willing to face things head-on while I hesitated. I jumped up to follow her, my nerves buzzing as we stepped into the overgrown backyard.

The air was cold, far too cold for a summer morning. The grass was wet with dew, and the wind rustled through the leaves, sending a chill down my spine. Violet's blonde hair whipped around her face as she scanned the yard, her eyes narrowed in determination.

"There," I whispered, pointing to the far corner of the yard. In the shadow of an old oak tree, I could just make out the shape of someone standing there. It was the boy—again. His blonde hair was tousled, his hands stuffed into the pockets of a worn, dark jacket.

This time, Violet saw him too.

"Hey!" she shouted, taking a step forward.

The boy didn't move. He just stood there, watching us with those same intense eyes, a small, almost amused smile playing on his lips.

I grabbed Violet's arm before she could get any closer. "Don't," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Something's off about him."

Violet hesitated, her jaw clenched, but she didn't push forward. We stood there, the three of us, locked in some strange, silent standoff. Then, just like last night, the boy turned and disappeared into the shadows of the tree, vanishing as if he had never been there at all.

Violet let out a breath she'd been holding. "What the hell?" she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "Who is he?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my heart still racing. "But I saw him last night. Outside my window."

Violet stared at me, her eyes widening. "You didn't think to mention that sooner?"

"I didn't want to freak you out," I said, feeling a little defensive.

"Well, it's too late for that," she snapped. "That guy's definitely real, and he's creeping around our house. We need to tell Mom and Dad."

I shook my head, glancing back toward the house where our parents were still blissfully unaware of everything going on around them. "You know they'll just say we're imagining things, or worse, that it's all in our heads."

Violet huffed in frustration, pacing back and forth. "Yeah, you're probably right. But something's going on here, Rose. This house...it's not normal."

I nodded, my unease growing with every passing second. "I know."

For the rest of the day, the encounter weighed on me. Violet and I stayed close to the house, neither of us straying too far from the safety of its walls, despite the fact that the walls themselves didn't feel that safe. The feeling of being watched never left, as if the boy was still somewhere out there, lurking just beyond the edges of our sight.

That night, I lay in bed again, staring at the ceiling, sleep feeling like a distant possibility. Every little noise made me jump—the creaking of the floorboards, the wind brushing against the windows. I couldn't shake the feeling that the boy was out there again, watching.

Just as I was about to drift off, a soft knock came at my door.

"Rose?" Violet's voice was barely audible.

I sat up quickly, my heart pounding. "Yeah?"

The door creaked open, and Violet slipped into the room, her eyes wide. "I saw him again," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "In the hallway this time."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "He was inside?"

Violet nodded, her face pale under the moonlight that filtered through the window. "He was just standing there, watching me. When I turned on the light, he was gone."

I swallowed hard, fear clawing at my chest. "What are we going to do?"

Violet shook her head, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know. But whatever's happening in this house, it's not just our imaginations. We need to figure out who that boy is."

I nodded, my mind racing. There was something about him—something more than just a random stranger lurking around. I could feel it in my bones.

And I knew, deep down, that this wasn't the last time we'd see him.

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