Chapter 5: The House Turns Against Us
Anna said I was losing my mind. I said the house was alive.
Neither of us was wrong.
The kitchen faucet gurgled and spat black water, thick as oil. A single strand of long, dark hair floated to the surface.
Anna screamed.
We unplugged every drain, but the knocking continued — a hollow thud from inside the pipes, in perfect rhythm with my heartbeat.
I turned the main valve off. The knocking stopped.
Then, from the drain, a voice whispered, “Let me out.”
Cliffhanger: When I looked down the sink, an eye stared back.
