Chapter Forty-Five
After the call with Agent Williams ended, the house fell into a silence so thick it felt alive. Not peaceful. Not empty. Watching. Waiting. The hours until dawn dragged, heavy with tension. Every creak made us jump. Every gust against the windows felt like a warning. The journal lay open on the coffee table, its blank pages trembling faintly, as if something on the other side was trying to push through.
Zeke sat beside me on the couch, his arm around my shoulders. He wasn't watching the TV anymore. The screen was on, the sound low, forgotten. His eyes kept drifting to the windows, scanning the dark outside. Uncle Donovan sat in the recliner, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. He looked like he was praying or trying not to fall apart.
"Sunrise. We just have to make it to sunrise," Zeke said, tightening his hold on me. A chill ran the length of my spine. I wasn't sure sunrise would save us. We stayed together the rest of the night, no one wanting to be alone. The fear of danger hung over our heads like a dark cloud.
The first hint of dawn crept across the sky, turning the horizon pale gray. The house felt colder, like the night had left something behind. Then a car engine rumbled in the distance.
"That's him," Zeke said, shooting to his feet.
"Finally," Donovan muttered, rubbing his face as he stood too.
I moved to the window and peeked through the blinds. A dark SUV rolled into our driveway, headlights cutting through the early morning fog. Agent Williams stepped out, grim and cautious. His eyes swept the street before he shut the door and headed for the house. He looked different, harder, like he'd aged ten years since the last time we'd seen him. Zeke opened the door before he could knock.
"Get inside," Zeke said. "Quickly." Agent Williams didn't argue. He stepped in and locked the door behind him with a quiet click. The second he entered the living room, the journal flew open, then slammed shut as if protesting his presence. I gasped. Everyone else jumped.
"What was that?" Agent Williams asked.
"The veil," I whispered, as if that explained everything. "It reacts to danger and the truth." He stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he nodded once, like he'd expected something like this.
"Alright," he said quietly. "We need to talk."
"Let's start with Ted, then," Donovan said, crossing his arms. "Was his abduction because of Dunhill?"
"Yes. It was someone working for him," Agent Williams said, exhaling slowly.
"Why now?" I asked, my stomach twisting. It seemed ridiculous for them to quiet Ted now when he had been involved in so many incidents involving my property. He had to have been working under his orders.
"Because Ted talked to me," Agent Williams answered. "And Dunhill found out somehow. I am almost confident Dunhill has an informant inside the FBI. I can't prove it. Let alone unmask this individual. I will eventually, it's just going to take time we don't have."
"So he silenced him," Zeke said, anger sharpening his voice. His jaw clenched so hard I saw the muscle jump. Agent Williams didn't deny it. Instead, he stepped closer to the table and the journal. The moment he did, it pulsed faintly. He stared at it.
"I can't believe this thing is real?," he asked, startled by its reaction. "I'm still wrapping my mind around the fact that it reacts to people."
"Yes," I whispered, confused why he was asking. "And it's been warning us."
Agent Williams dragged a hand through his hair. "Then listen to it, because Dunhill isn't just dangerous. He's desperate, and desperate men make mistakes." The veil hummed again, louder this time, vibrating through the floorboards.
Agent Williams looked at me, his expression darkening. "Roxanne... he knows who you are. We need to be careful."
"I know," I said, trailing off. "But how long has he known?"
"When he first met you at the closing. He had no idea who you were until the sheriff asked if you were related to the Catalano's. That caught his attention, and he started digging into your background," Agent Williams said. "He's been looking for your mother and for you for years. He never believed she died that night. He just never expected you to fall right into his lap."
The journal pulsed again, a sharp, insistent thud. Agent Williams rose, unable to stay seated. He stood in the center of the living room like a man about to deliver a blow he knew would land hard. Zeke sat close beside me, one hand on my back. Uncle Donovan hovered near the recliner, arms crossed tight, bracing himself.
Agent Williams took a slow breath. "I need you to understand something. Dunhill isn't working alone." The room seemed to shrink around us. "Although he is the man in charge, he has people," Agent Williams continued. "A network. Some loyal to him, some scared of him, some paid off. And they're everywhere."
Donovan's jaw tightened. "In the sheriff's office. We already know about them."
"Yes," Agent Williams said. "In the sheriff's office. In the city council. In local businesses, even the damn zoning board. As I said before, there are traces in the FBI, too, though I'm still trying to figure out how far it goes. He's woven himself into this town like rot in the foundation." A cold shiver crawled up my spine.
"How does he control them?" Zeke asked, frowning.
"Fear," Agent Williams said. "Money, blackmail, and promises of power. He knows exactly what each person wants—or what they're terrified of losing." The journal pulsed once, a sharp thud that made all of us flinch. Agent Williams glanced at it. "And then there are the ones who follow him because they believe in what he's trying to do."
My stomach twisted. "What is he trying to do exactly?" I asked, already terrified, I knew the answer.
Agent Williams hesitated. I could see the battle in him over how much to reveal, how much he thought we could handle.
Finally, he met my eyes. "He wants access to the veil. Not just access it, but cross over into it." The air left my lungs. Zeke swore under his breath. Donovan's face drained of color. Agent Williams continued, voice low. "He believes the veil is a source of power, influence, and knowledge. He thinks it can be controlled. Weaponized."
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Agent Williams shook his head. "He doesn't care if it's impossible. He cares if he can force it." The veil hummed sharply in my ears, angry and warning.
I pressed my hand to my temple. "He can't break it. He can't. Only I can walk between both planes." I kept repeating the words, but they didn't feel like mine. It was like something had slipped into my mind and taken hold. The journal reacted instantly, flying open so violently its pages whipped as if a storm had burst through the room.
Agent Williams jumped back, yelling, "Holy Shit!"
Zeke rushed to me, grabbing my arm. "Rocky, baby. Calm down." His words snapped me out of whatever had come over me.
"I'm okay," I whispered, as my voice trembled.
"The veil is reaching out to Roxanne," Uncle Donovan said, his voice shaking. "It's worried about what you're saying."
"No," I said. "It's reacting to Dunhill's plans." The instant the words left my mouth, the ringing in my ears sharpened, then softened into a whisper. Faint. Breathy. Urgent. It said only one word.
Daughter….
My breath hitched. "Someone's here."
"Who? Yurei?" Zeke asked, tightening his grip.
"No. Someone else," I said, shaking my head.
"Roxanne, what does it want you to see?" Agent Williams asks, stepping closer, his eyes locked on the page.
"Roxanne, what does it want you to see?" Agent Williams asked, stepping closer, his eyes locked on the page.
The shadows deepened around us, blocking what little light came through the windows. It felt like we were trapped in a room full of smoke.
"Dunhill has people watching you and this house," Williams said, dropping the bomb in a low voice. My heart seemed to stop, then drop straight into my stomach.
"What?" Zeke snapped.
Agent Williams nodded grimly. "I saw a car two blocks down. Similar to the one that's been tailing me for days. They're not subtle anymore." The journal slammed shut. The lamp flickered violently. The veil screamed, a sharp, piercing sound only I could hear.
I stagger, clutching my head. "Something's coming."
Williams grabbed my shoulder to help Zeke steady me. "Then we don't have much time." The house fell silent. Too silent. The kind that tells you the next move has already begun. Zeke stood rigid beside me, fists clenched. Uncle Donovan looked like he'd been punched in the gut. And I... I felt the veil pressing against me, heavy and urgent, like it was trying to push me backward or pull me forward. I couldn't tell which.
Agent Williams moved to the window, lifting the curtain just enough to peer outside. His jaw tightened. "The car's still there."
Zeke stepped closer to him. "How many are in the car?"
"It's parked too far away. I can't tell," Agent Williams said, frustration edging his voice. A cold ripple slid down my spine. Then the house creaked, a long, low groan that made all three men freeze.
"Tell me that's just the house settling," Donovan said, swallowing hard.
"It's not," I said. "I think it's trying to warn us."
Zeke moves closer, slipping an arm around my waist. "Rocky, you're shaking."
"I'm fine," I lied. I wasn't. The air felt charged, like the second before lightning strikes. The shadows seemed to pulse with my heartbeat and the veil. It was like something was screaming without a sound.
Agent Williams stepped away from the window. "Listen carefully. Dunhill's people aren't just watching. They're waiting."
"For what?" Uncle Donovan asks.
"For an opening," Agent Williams answered. "For a moment, when Roxanne is vulnerable, or they think they can get to her."
"Damn it," Zeke said, staring out the window. His face was a mix of anger and fear.
"What?" Uncle Donovan and I yell at the same time.
Agent Williams moved back to the window and lifted the curtain again. "There's another car farther down the road. They're trying to box in the street."
My heart pounds so hard it hurts. "They're coming for me."
"Not yet, but soon," Agent Williams told me. For a long moment, none of us moved. He stayed near the window, shoulders tight, scanning the road like he expected something to burst out of the fog. Zeke hovered beside me, protective and restless. Uncle Donovan started pacing again, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering under his breath.
"What do we do?" I asked, terror filling me.
"We stay inside. We stay quiet and wait," Agent Williams said, looking out the window.
"For what? For them to kill us all? Or break down the doors?" Uncle Donovan snapped.
"For them to make a mistake," he said. "They always do." He finally stepped away from the window. "Listen to me. Dunhill's people won't move unless they think they can get in and out clean. Right now, they're watching, waiting for us to panic, maybe testing our perimeter."
"Too late, I'm already panicking," Uncle Donovan muttered.
Agent Williams ignored him. "They're waiting for a moment when Roxanne is separated and vulnerable."
"That's not happening," Zeke said, his jaw tightening.
"Good, because if they get their hands on her..." His words trailed off. He didn't need to finish. We all knew. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied.
Zeke moved toward the hallway, peering into the darkness. "Rocky, stay behind me," he said as I stepped up beside him. I didn't argue. The house creaked again, louder this time, and the floorboards beneath us vibrated.
"It's the house," I said before anyone could ask. "Not just the house. The veil, too."
"Then we need to take this seriously," Agent Williams said.
Zeke shot him a scathing look. "We are taking it seriously."
"No," Agent Williams said. "You're not. You're just scared. There's a difference." The veil hummed again, long and mournful, curling down my spine. I stiffened. Deep in my bones, I knew it was warning me. Agent Williams looked out the window again, lifting the curtain just enough to see. "Shit," he exclaimed.
"What now?" Uncle Donovan asked, voice tight.
"There's movement," he said. "Two figures dressed in black just got out of the first car. They're not approaching yet." Fear shot through me at the thought of them taking me like they took Ted.