Page 76 of Pretty Cruel Love

34.5

DR. WEISS

Day Thirteen

The Baylor Estate has never been “home” to another family since the murders.

There’s a hired crew that comes in once a month to check the pipes and test the lights; a landscaping team that trims the hydrangeas and cuts back the grass.

Every now and then, the estate goes back on the market, but open houses never attract real buyers. Just YouTubers. Lurkers. Curious internet sleuths hoping to stand in the blood-soaked footprints of the woman the press dubbedThe Pretty Girl Murderer.

I turn off the windshield wipers and park behind Robin’s rental.

Apparently, the real estate agent is twenty minutes late.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A suited man raps his knuckles on my window before jogging toward the porch.

I step out and follow him.

“Sorry about the delay,” he says, flipping through a keyring. “Hot market these days. I think this one’ll sell super fast, so if you love it, let’s get that offer in.”

“We will, totally.” Robin flashes a saccharine smile.

I say nothing.

He pushes open the front door. A draft of warm, citrus-cleaned air spills out.

“Feel free to explore. Any questions, I’m around,” he says. “Make sure you check out the cedar beam upgrades—they complement the garden, and?—”

I stop listening.

The moment I cross the threshold, the staging furniture vanishes in my mind.

I don’t see beige and white. I see blood and chaos.

Books thrown across the carpet. A broken picture frame. Sadie’s hand clenched around a knife.

The living room may be clean now, but I can still see the shadows.

I move down the hall. The kitchen is pristine, remodeled—but I can smell the pancakes she made while three corpses cooled on the tile.

She called 9-1-1 from the corner by the fridge. Her voice trembling, trying to sound like a survivor.

Upstairs, she ran a bath in the aftermath. Let the water run red, then pink, then clear.

It should horrify me.

But standing here, remembering all of it...

It stirs something dark in me. Something dangerous.

It turns me on.

The bathroom walls are painted a soft powder blue now—nothing like the stark white of the original. The faucets have been replaced. Even the drain covers.

But the bones of this house remember.

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