Page 26 of The Dark Obsession

“It’s fine, Rosalie. If you have not heard any news from your mother, please, tomorrow, let me pull a few strings.” He talks low. His eyes are vivid from beneath his glasses.

Chapter 12

My life has become a huge search party. I search for my mother and a murderous stalker, and I’ll cope with how I know best: a large coffee and a shot of whisky. The sky is a dark blue, empty of clouds and sun, by the time I leave work. Agreeing to let Rafael help me if my mother isn’t found is, even if unknown to him, a huge relief that I won’t have to do it alone. My drive home is fast through the small town’s dark and empty streets.

“Rosalie,” Benjamin calls out as I walk down the front path “Rosalie!”

“What?”

“Did Father call you?” he asks slowly, waiting at the front door.

“Mom’s missing, I know.”

“You told me she called this morning.” His voice gets higher with each word, his voice now matched with a blotchy pink face.

My head spins for a moment, faster than the waltzers Benjamin and I used to ride as children till we were green in the face. My hands fly to my phone, understanding nothing other than she spoke to me. I ignored her, but she spoke.

“Rosa, see you soon. I love you. Tell Benjamin I love him too.” Her croaky voice seeps quietly from my phone.

Ben’s face changes into an angry contorted mess as he steps closer to me.

My throat becomes irritatingly dry, seemingly sending all its moisture into my eyes.

“She’s been missing for three days, Rosalie. She contacted you this morning, and you, being the selfish git you are, ignored her.” Ben’s voice rises hysterically with each word.

“I didn’t know she was missing.” I stare at the floor, my eyes burning and filling with tears. “You never answer her either!”

He turns, stomps towards the house and slams the door shut. The little line of light coming from the open door disappears, leaving the garden as dark as midnight. The sky is black now, with no stars or moon to shine any light onto my garden.

I slump onto my knees with my head in my hands for what seems like an eternity.

A typical English night, however, tonight feels different. The whispering of the wind seems to be trying to convey a secret message. The hair on my arms stand up as the night slows down. The large, old tree in the centre of my front garden creaks with the strengthening wind, and I find myself glued to the spot. The closest streetlight is at least a hundred feet away, its dull light not reaching anywhere near the garden. The security light has not yet activated, because of my continued stillness. I’ve completely lost track of time, but the cold is creeping up my legs from the damp grass below me.

My head jerks to the left, instinct perhaps, to the streetlight in the distance. A dark silhouette of a man stands facing me. I stare back, stuck on my knees. Unreasonable fear surges through my body. A quiet crunch of leaves from behind force my legs into action. As I run to the house, the security light finally snaps on. I do not dare to look back as I push the front door open and lock myself in.

I stand silently staring through the misted decorative glass panel on the front door. A dark frame that stands still is only visible because of the security light. My heart pounds, and my palms are sweating. I wait, wanting to scream for my brother, but my lips don’t even release a gasp of air. The light goes off. My heartbeat now shoots into my head, and a dangerous throb forces me to the floor. Shaking my head, I crawl up the stairs. I aim straight for Ben’s bedroom and shove his door open.

“Ben.” A sharp whisper escapes my mouth.

He is sitting at his computer. The only light in the room is from the monitor, but straight away, I feel safe. I feel stupid. He looks down at me, his eyes wide, and jumps out of his seat. “Rosalie, what’s going on?” He grabs me under the arms and lifts me to my feet. “What is it?”

“Outside.” Is all I manage to say.

He heads downstairs. I hear him unlock the front door, and my ears ring in the deafening silence.

What have I done? What if he gets hurt? It was probably just a neighbour, just a passerby. I talk myself out of being terrified, trying desperately to stop my shaking insides, at least enough to approach the top of the stairs. The seconds feel like hours as I wait for Ben to return. The security light flicks on again, and I hear footsteps approach the house.

“I can’t find anything, Rose,” he splutters between breaths. “I ran all the way to the end of the street. What’s going on?”

He locks the door and switches off the light as he climbs the stairs. This time, he leads me to my room and sits on the end of my bed, his head in his hands, fingers tying up into his straight brown hair, catching his breath.

“I was outside. I lost track of the time. Then I saw someone staring, then I ran into the house, and the security light was on, and I could see a shadow outside.” I trip over my words in a rush to get them out.

“I think you’re just tired. Get some sleep.”

My phone vibrates, startling both of us. I take the chance to check the time—2:30 a.m.

“Why is your boss calling so late?” Ben’s voice fades into the background.

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