Page 61 of I'll Be Waiting

Anton wouldn’t pull out a rug from under me in the bathroom.

Did Cirillo sense some dark force that’s only targeting me? Except the experiences that seem to be Anton also almost exclusively target me.

What if that dark forceisAnton?

Jekyll and Hyde.

No, that’s ridiculous.

Is it?

Remember what happened in high school. You’ve never been completely sure—

Of course I was sure Anton wasn’t involved. I’d never have married him otherwise.

Jekyll and Hyde.

A whisper rises from my memory, from being in this room, hearing Anton’s voice.

The apology.

What if he wasn’t apologizing for frightening me? What if he was apologizing for whatever compelled him to do it?

No.

I know Anton. I never caught a glimpse of anything darker.

I turn to Cirillo. “Is it safe to stay? Finish the séances.”

“Definitely,” he says, a little too quickly. “But you must tell meeverything you experience, however much your mind is insisting there’s a rational explanation.”

I force myself not to hesitate. I don’t agree, either, just make a noise he can interpret as that.

What if the danger is Anton?

Then I need to know that. Maybe someone else would march out of this house the moment they felt the first twinge of doubt. They’d want to hold their loved one’s memory sacred and polished and block anything that could tarnish it.

Nope, sorry, I can’t hear you. La-la-la.

I want to know, and maybe that doubt already tarnishes his memory.

If it does, then I’m sorry, Anton. I don’t honestly believe you tried to hurt me, but it would be worse to leave with those doubts festering, always wondering “what if.” I need to set those fears to rest and be confident—absolutely confident—that you were the man I remember.

SEVENTEEN

We go back to bed after that. Cirillo makes me promise to be careful. He even asks, for tomorrow night, whether I’d be okay switching to the room with two twin beds and sharing with Jin or Shania. I say I will, on the condition we don’t tell Jin about my near falls. If Jin knows, he’ll worry, and he’ll also be compelled to tell Keith, who will drag my ass home.

Iwillbe more careful. That was the real danger both times. Carelessness. On the stairs, I’d been distracted by hearing noises downstairs. In the bathroom, I’d been distracted by the dumbwaiter.

Walk with care. Hold railings. Pay attention.

I crawl into bed but it’s soon obvious that I’m not going back to sleep. It’s after five, and I’m far too unsettled. Maybe I’ll go for a walk to clear my head.

I roll out of bed and open the blind. It’s still dark, but the bugs are definitely there, their buzzing audible even through the windows.

I yank the blind down hard enough that it flips back up when I let go. I ignore it, dress, and head downstairs. If I can’t walk today, I’ll wear my vest while emptying the dishwasher, tidying the kitchen, all the little things in a house where everyone feels like a guest and waits for the nonexistent host to clean up.

At least everyone’s been putting their dishes in the dishwasher, although I have doubts about whether they were rinsed. Rentals don’t usually have new or high-powered dishwashers. Maybe I should wash dishes by hand. It’s been a long time since I did that, and I don’t mind—it was my chore as a teen. Put in my earbuds, hit a podcast, and off I go.

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