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"Co on, Himari, what do you an?"
Tengu’s voice crackled through the phone, carrying its usual blend of amusent and impatience.
"You asked to speak to my connection in the housing committee, so I’m guessing it’s about a house."
Raina stood beside her bedroom window, staring out at the cloudy winter sky beyond the estate grounds. The gardens below looked dull beneath the pale morning light, and for a mont she found herself wondering how sothing as ordinary as a house had beco such a significant problem.
A house.
The phrase sounded harmless.
Simple.
Except there was nothing simple about the abandoned property where Bunny Head had arranged their eting.
Nothing simple about a place he seed to know intimately.
He had known every entrance.
Every exit.
Every blind spot.
He had known exactly where Frank’s n would position themselves before they had even taken their positions.
That wasn’t luck.
It wasn’t coincidence.
It was familiarity.
Slowly, she exhaled.
Then she gave Tengu the address.
The sound of typing echoed through the line.
"I’ll see what I can find."
"Okay."
Raina lowered herself into the chair near her desk.
"Just let know what you find."
"You’ll be the first."
The call ended.
For several monts she sat motionless, staring at the dark screen of her phone.
Christmas Eve was tomorrow.
Under normal circumstances that thought would have made her smile.
Instead it made her uneasy.
She and Ethan had plans.
Plans they had already postponed once during Thanksgiving when work had dragged him away at the last mont.
Now they would finally spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Pottersville with Nathan, his wife, and Grace.
A normal holiday.
A peaceful holiday.
Sothing she desperately needed.
The problem was that peace felt fragile these days.
Every ti she thought she understood the ga Bunny Head was playing, he moved another piece.
The photographs.
The grave.
Malcolm.
The house.
The Aizawa family.
The empty hole where Felix should have been.
The entire situation felt like quicksand.
The harder she struggled, the deeper she sank.
The next morning sunlight filtered through the curtains.
Christmas Eve.
For the first ti in days, Raina woke feeling sowhat rested.
Not relaxed.
Not safe.
Just rested.
That was enough.
She spent most of the morning packing.
Half her wardrobe sohow ended up on the bed before she finally decided what to bring.
A sweater lay draped across a chair.
Boots sat near the closet.
Three different outfits had already been rejected.
She was attempting to decide between two jackets when her phone rang.
Tengu.
Imdiately she answered.
"Speak to ."
There was a brief pause.
Then Tengu said,
"The house belongs to an old Japanese family that moved to the States around twenty years ago."
Raina straightened.
"What family?"
"Aizawa."
The na imdiately caught her attention.
"A Mr. Aizawa Tenkaichi and his family."
Raina frowned.
The na ant nothing to her.
"What happened to them?"
A pause.
Then:
"There was a fire roughly twelve years ago."
Her stomach tightened.
"A fire?"
"Yes."
His voice had beco noticeably more serious.
"The reports say the fire destroyed the property."
"And the family?"
Silence.
Then:
"They died."
Raina’s grip tightened around the phone.
"All of them?"
"According to the newspaper article."
The answer ca imdiately.
"No survivors."
For several monts she said nothing.
A dead family.
A burned house.
An abandoned property.
Yet sohow Bunny Head had access to it.
The questions imdiately began multiplying.
If the family died twelve years ago, who had been maintaining the property?
Who had been paying the bills?
Who had kept the electricity running?
And most importantly...
How was Bunny Head connected to them?
The more she learned, the less she understood.
"I’ll send you the article."
A notification appeared seconds later.
Tengu sighed.
"I’ll keep digging."
"Thank you."
"This one feels strange."
Raina stared at the floor.
"That’s because it is."
The call ended.
For several monts she remained seated on the edge of the bed.
Then she slowly lay back and stared at the ceiling.
The house.
The grave.
Malcolm.
Bunny Head.
Everything felt connected.
She just couldn’t see how.
"I’m going to lose my mind."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Her phone buzzed.
This ti she smiled.
Ethan.
Hey. I’m outside. Are you done packing or do you need help?
A laugh escaped her.
So of the tension imdiately faded.
I’ll be down soon.
Define soon.
Five minutes.
That’s not a real answer.
She rolled her eyes.
Ten minutes later she erged from the house dragging a large suitcase behind her.
Ethan spotted it imdiately.
"Oh no."
"What?"
"Please tell that isn’t yours."
"It is."
His face fell.
"We’re staying two days."
"So?"
"So why does it look like you’re relocating?"
Raina ignored him.
Ethan grabbed the suitcase.
Then imdiately regretted it.
His eyes widened.
"What exactly did you put in here?"
"My essentials."
"There is absolutely no way these are essentials."
"They are."
With visible effort, he loaded the suitcase into the trunk.
Raina glanced at his tiny duffel bag.
"Is that all you’re bringing?"
"Yes."
"That’s ridiculous."
"It contains everything I need."
"It looks like it contains two shirts."
"It contains three shirts."
"Living dangerously, I see."
Ethan laughed.
"Sobody has to."
Soon they were on the road.
The eight-hour drive to Pottersville passed surprisingly quickly.
They talked.
Listened to music.
Stopped for coffee.
Argued over directions despite having GPS.
For long stretches the conversation remained completely ordinary.
And for the first ti in weeks, Raina appreciated that.
No graves.
No conspiracies.
No rabbit masks.
Just Ethan.
Just Christmas.
Around six hours into the drive, while Ethan focused on the road, Raina found herself rembering the na.
Aizawa.
She turned slightly.
"Ethan."
"Hm?"
"Have you ever heard of a family called Aizawa?"
His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
"Aizawa?"
"Yeah."
"The family from the old burned house?"
Raina imdiately sat straighter.
"You know it?"
Ethan nodded.
"Everybody in Harrington knew about it."
"Why?"
"Because it was all anybody talked about for months."
Now she was listening carefully.
"What happened?"
Ethan shrugged.
"Depends on who you ask."
"What does that an?"
"The official story was a house fire."
"And unofficially?"
Ethan gave a small laugh.
"Unofficially, everybody had their own version."
Raina remained silent.
Encouraging him to continue.
"So people claid they heard screaming before the fire."
"Others said they saw sobody leave the property."
"One guy swore there was a survivor."
Her pulse quickened.
"A survivor?"
"Probably nonsense."
"Probably?"
Ethan shrugged.
"I was a kid. Most of it sounded like ghost stories."
"What happened afterward?"
"The property stayed abandoned."
His gaze remained on the road.
"Kids used to dare each other to go near it."
"And?"
"And most of us were too scared."
The answer made her smile despite herself.
But her thoughts were already racing.
A survivor.
Probably a rumor.
Yet after everything that had happened recently, she wasn’t sure she believed in coincidences
anymore.
Night had fallen by the ti they finally reached Pottersville.
Nathan greeted them before they even reached the porch.
"About ti!"
He wrapped Ethan in a hug before turning toward Raina.
His wife appeared monts later.
Grace followed behind her.
Warmth imdiately washed over Raina.
The house slled like cinnamon, roasted at, and fresh bread.
Christmas decorations covered nearly every available surface.
Lights twinkled near the windows.
Holiday music drifted softly through the background.
For the first ti all day, she felt herself relax.
Nathan led them upstairs.
"You’ll be staying here."
The guest room was larger than expected.
Raina imdiately shook her head.
"We don’t want to be a burden."
Nathan laughed.
"You drove eight hours."
"So?"
"So you’re staying."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
A grin spread across his face.
"Besides, if you leave, Grace will probably adopt sobody else by tomorrow morning."
Everyone laughed.
Even Grace.
Dinner that evening stretched on for hours.
Stories were exchanged.
Old mories resurfaced.
Nathan sohow managed to embarrass Ethan repeatedly.
His wife joined in.
Grace laughed until tears filled her eyes.
For a little while, Raina forgot everything.
The grave.
The photographs.
The fear.
All of it.
She simply enjoyed herself.
Which was why she almost missed the vibration.
Buzz.
Her phone lit up beside her plate.
Unknown Number.
A small frown appeared on her face.
Then she opened the ssage.
The smile disappeared instantly.
You look like you’re enjoying yourself.
Her stomach dropped.
The laughter around the table suddenly sounded distant.
Muted.
Slowly she looked up.
Nathan was still talking.
Grace was laughing.
Ethan was arguing about sothing completely unimportant.
Everything looked normal.
Perfectly normal.
Yet suddenly she felt exposed.
Watched.
Observed.
She pushed her chair back.
"Excuse ."
Nobody seed to notice the tension in her voice.
She crossed the room and approached the nearest window.
Outside, darkness covered the neighborhood.
Snow drifted through the cold night air.
The street appeared empty.
No unfamiliar vehicles.
No suspicious figures.
Nothing.
Her pulse continued to hamr anyway.
Because the ssage didn’t need to be true.
It only needed to make her wonder.
Then her phone vibrated again.
A second ssage.
rry Christmas, Princess.
Raina’s blood ran cold.
A third vibration followed almost imdiately.
This ti her hands tightened around the phone before she even opened it.
Slowly she looked down.
Tell Grace I said hello.
For a mont she forgot how to breathe.
The laughter behind her continued.
Warm.
Safe.
Happy.
But suddenly none of it felt safe anymore.
Because Bunny Head didn’t just know where she was.
He knew who she was with.
And standing there in the glow of the Christmas lights, staring into the darkness beyond the window, Raina realized sothing that terrified her far more than the ssage itself.
He was getting closer.
And she still had no idea who he was.
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