Chapter 2
The first scream shattered the quiet at six-thirty the next morning.
“No! No, no, no! Dad, what did you do?!”
I was down in the kitchen, calmly brewing coffee as if I’d slept soundly all night. I set my mug down, sprinted up the stairs, and put on an act of pure panic as I threw my bedroom door open.
The scene inside was pure horror.
Chloe was wrapped in my bedsheet, trembling violently, her face pale and distorted with shock. Arthur was sitting on the edge of the mattress, his face entirely drained of color, frantically trying to pull his clothes together while stammering incoherent excuses.
“What happened in my room?” I demanded, keeping my voice firm and loud.
Chloe looked at me with wild, terrified eyes, gasping for air. “He… he was in here… I don’t remember anything after I drank—”
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Arthur dropped to his knees right beside the bed. “It was a mistake! I had too much to drink! I thought—I didn’t know who was in here!”
“A mistake?” I snapped, stepping into the room. “Last night you brought a glass of juice to my door and tried to force me to drink it. I didn’t drink it—Chloe did. Then you snuck into my room in the dark thinking I was passed out. Was that a mistake too?”
