Chapter 6 · Don't Let Her In

"You wrote my name."

Daniel stood in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame. "I didn't write it."

"But it's your book."

"It's the house's book." His voice stayed flat. "I just keep it."

I held the notebook like it might bite. My name sat at the bottom of that list, ink still dark, date blank. Above it—twelve names. Twelve people. All dead.

"My mother's not on here," I said.

"No."

"Why not?"

He pushed off the frame, stepped inside, and I backed up without meaning to. The bedroom felt smaller with him in it. He didn't come closer. Just stood there, shoulders tight, jaw set.

"Because she didn't finish," he said.

"Finish what?"

"The contract."

I laughed. Couldn't help it. "What contract? Who signs a contract with a house?"

"Your mother did." His eyes didn't leave mine. "She signed. She ran. And now the house wants payment."

My hands went cold. "Payment."

"A life. Hers, or someone else's. She picked someone else."

I shook my head. "You're insane."

"You heard her name in the walls."

"So?"

"You saw bruises that aren't yours. You know the last tenant died in your ER.