Chapter 3

When I got home, the door was slightly ajar.

Inside, I could hear a loud argument going on. It was Jeremy's voice.

As soon as I walked in, the noise stopped. Jeremy was the only one in the room. He was tidying up my mystery box shelf.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked.

Jeremy replied, "Uh? No one, I was on the phone."

The moment he saw me, his expression turned cold, and his dark eyes pinned me in place.

"You went to the park? What did you do there?" he asked.

A chill crept up from my feet. How did he know where I had been? Had he already figured out what I did?

"Just went for a walk," I replied, keeping my tone light.

I headed toward my room, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary. Inside, I quietly made a decision. It was risky, but maybe it would help move things along.

After dinner, I left Darcy's diamond ring on the dining table.

Not long after, Jeremy handed it back to me.

"Honey, you left your ring on the table," he said.

I stared at his nonchalant face, trying to figure out if he was genuinely clueless or just a damn good actor.

Suddenly, his phone started ringing on the coffee table.

I glanced at the most recent message. It was from Gavin Fletcher.

It read: [Don't let her know!]

It was obvious who "her" referred to. The fog surrounding Jeremy was only getting heavier.

*****

When I left for work in the morning, I noticed the secret edition figurine had fallen to the floor, so I just attached it to my bag.

Everyone at the office kept complimenting how cute it was, especially Stella. She was totally obsessed.

"Clara, I want one too! Can you come with me at lunch?" Stella asked.

I replied, "Sure, let's grab lunch over there."

After lunch, Stella was waiting in line at the store, so I sat by the entrance to wait for her.

Suddenly, a homeless man rushed up to me and grabbed my hand tightly.

He kept muttering something, his words coming out in fits and starts. "Go... go... Leave... run... run away..."

My wrist stung with pain, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't shake him off.

"Let go! I don't even know you!" I shouted.

"Don't go... Don't return..." he muttered desperately.

Stella heard the commotion and rushed out, pushing him off me.

"Stay back! If you come any closer, we're calling the cops!" she shouted.

The homeless guy kept trying to bother us, but the police finally showed up and took him away.

As the cops dragged him off, his eyes stayed locked on me, like he was desperate to get a message across.

At work that afternoon, I just couldn't stop thinking about that homeless guy. There was something about him that felt oddly familiar.

Stella noticed I was spacing out. She said, "Clara, he was just some crazy guy."

Yeah, he was just some crazy guy. Why bother thinking about it?

After work, Darcy was standing outside my building in a beautiful dress.

"Clara, I came to get Mr. Lawson to sign some documents, but it looks like he's not home," she said.

I replied, "Come on in and wait."

I led her inside. But the Jeremy she said wasn't home was actually busy in the kitchen, wearing an apron.

When he heard the door open, he peeked out from the kitchen.

"Honey, you're back!" Jeremy called out.

But when he saw Darcy standing next to me, his face showed a hint of awkwardness.

"Darcy's here for you to sign some papers. Why don't you go take care of it? I'll handle things in the kitchen," I said.

I put on an apron and got back to chopping veggies.

Jeremy had only been gone for two minutes.

Darcy's scream echoed through the apartment, followed by the sharp crash of a shattered teacup. I dashed into the living room to find Darcy standing by the couch, looking completely lost, while Jeremy glared at her.

"What happened?" I asked.

Jeremy said, "It's okay, honey. She just lost her grip on the cup."

Jeremy hurriedly signed the papers.

I glanced at the papers. It was Jeremy's familiar handwriting.

"Well... I should get going," Darcy said, her voice shaky.

She rushed out, mumbling a quick goodbye.

Jeremy crouched down, picking up the shards and tossing them into the trash.

I stared at his profile. His face...

The homeless guy! His face was identical to Jeremy's.

Jeremy was the only son in his family with no siblings, no twins. So how could there be someone out there with his exact face?

What the hell was going on? Who was that homeless guy? Just what did he know?

His disjointed warnings kept echoing in my mind. "Run, leave, get out, don't go..."

I wondered if he was trying to say, "Run! Don't go home!"

If that was true, then the real reason I shouldn't go home must be the guy right in front of me.

Was he really Jeremy Lawson?

Before bed, I stashed my phone in the closet, with the camera aimed right at the master bedroom bed.

I had this gut feeling. Everything that was making me uneasy wasn't just my imagination.

When I woke up the next morning, Jeremy was gone.

My phone was totally out of battery. I plugged it in and checked the video I'd filmed last night.

As I watched, my eyes went wide, and it felt like every drop of blood in my body froze solid.

On the screen, I was lying in bed, fast asleep.

Jeremy was sprawled over me, his posture was eerily spider-like.