Chapter 22 · The Night He Stayed

"You watched her drown."

Daniel didn't move. Water pooled around his boots, still draining from where the house had tried to kill me five minutes ago. His face looked like someone had carved it out of stone and forgotten to add the part that felt things.

"Leah—"

"Don't." I shoved myself up off the floor. My clothes were soaked. My throat burned from choking. The words that had come out of my mouth at the end—my mother's voice, not mine—still sat heavy in my chest. "You were there. Ten years ago. You knew she was locked in."

He didn't deny it.

That was worse.

"I was sixteen," he said finally. His voice was flat. "My mother did the locking. I found out after."

"After." I wanted to laugh, but it came out like broken glass. "How long after? An hour? A day?"

"Twenty minutes." He met my eyes. "I heard the water running. I broke the door. She was already under."

I couldn't breathe. The air in the room felt too thick, like the house was still trying to drown me from the inside.

"And you never told anyone."

"Who would I tell?" His jaw tightened. "The cops?