Chapter 6 The Whispers in the Walls

I couldn't stop staring at the photo.

Evelyn. Smiling. Holding hands with some stranger in a hotel room.

Who was he? And who the hell was sending me these messages?

My phone buzzed again. Another text.

Ask Ash about the voices. He knows more than he's telling you.

Voices? What voices?

I looked over at Ash, sleeping peacefully on his bed. His face was calm, innocent. But something cold crawled up my spine.

What wasn't he telling me?

The next morning, I couldn't concentrate on anything. Caleb had left early for work, but the house still felt heavy. Like the walls were holding their breath.

"Ash," I said over breakfast. "Can I ask you something?

He looked up from his cereal, milk dripping from his spoon. "Yeah?

"Do you ever... hear things? At night?

His spoon clattered into the bowl.

"What kind of things?

I leaned forward. "Strange sounds. Like... I don't know. Footsteps. Whispers."

Ash went very still. His eyes darted around the room like he was checking if someone else was listening.

"You hear them too? he whispered.

My heart skipped. "Hear what?

"The voices."

My mouth went dry. "What voices, Ash?

He pushed his bowl away and moved closer to me. His voice dropped so low I had to strain to hear him.

"Mom's voice. She talks to me at night."

The kitchen suddenly felt freezing cold.

"Ash..." I started.

"She's not gone, Riley. She's still here. In the walls. In the ceiling. She whispers to me when Dad's asleep."

I wanted to tell him it was just his imagination. That grief could make you hear things that weren't there. But something about the way he said it made my skin crawl.

"What does she say?"

Ash looked at me with those too old eyes. "She says Dad is dangerous. She says he's going to hurt you like he hurt her. She says we need to be ready."

Ready for what?

"Ash, honey, sometimes when we miss someone

"She's not dead!" he hissed, louder than I'd ever heard him speak. "She can't leave. Not while he's still here. Not while we're still in danger."

I reached for his hand, but he pulled away.

"You don't believe me."

"I want to believe you. But

"Then come with me tonight. Listen."

That evening, I sat in Ash's room as darkness fell. We played cards quietly, waiting. Caleb was downstairs watching TV. The sound drifted up through the floorboards.

"When does it usually happen?" I whispered.

"After he falls asleep. She waits until it's safe."

We sat in silence for what felt like hours. My legs were getting cramped. My eyes were heavy.

Then I heard it.

A soft scratching sound. Coming from inside the walls.

I froze.

"Do you hear that?" Ash whispered.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

The scratching moved. From the wall behind Ash's bed to the wall near the door. Like something was crawling through the spaces between the rooms.

Then came the whisper.

So faint I almost missed it.

"Riley..."

My blood turned to ice.

"Mom?" Ash whispered into the darkness.

The scratching stopped.

Then, clear as day, a woman's voice drifted through the wall.

"He knows. He knows about the diary. Hide it. Hide it now."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't think.

"Riley." The voice was urgent now. "He's coming. Tomorrow. With her. They're going to

The voice cut off suddenly.

We heard heavy footsteps on the stairs.

Caleb.

"Riley?" he called out. "You up there?

I looked at Ash. His face was pale but not surprised. Like this happened all the time.

"In here," I called back, trying to keep my voice steady.

Caleb appeared in the doorway. His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot.

"What are you two doing?

"Just talking," I said.

He looked around the room suspiciously. "I thought I heard voices."

"Just us."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then his gaze shifted to Ash.

"You need to get to bed, son. School tomorrow."

Ash nodded and climbed under his covers without a word.

Caleb turned back to me. "Riley. A word?"

My stomach dropped, but I followed him into the hallway.

"I don't like you filling the boy's head with nonsense," he said quietly.

"What nonsense?"

"About his mother. About... ghosts. He's been through enough."

I kept my face blank. "I haven't said anything about ghosts."

He stepped closer. "Haven't you?

The way he looked at me made my skin crawl. Like he could see right through me.

"Grief can make people hear things, Riley. See things. Believe things that aren't real."

Was he talking about Ash? Or me?

"I know."

"Good. Because I'd hate for you to end up like Evelyn. All those... delusions.

The word hung in the air like a threat.

"What delusions?"

He smiled that cold smile. "She thought I was trying to hurt her. Thought I was planning something. Poor thing couldn't tell the difference between reality and her own paranoid fantasies."

My heart pounded, but I kept my voice calm. "That must have been hard for you."

"It was. Especially when she started acting on those delusions. Recording things. Writing things down. Making up stories.

He knew about the videos. He knew about the diary.

How?

"Well," I said carefully, "she's at peace now."

His smile widened. "Yes. She is."

He turned and walked back downstairs, leaving me alone in the dark hallway.

I went back to Ash's room. He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Did you hear what he said? I whispered.

He nodded.

"Ash, I need you to tell me the truth. How long have you been hearing your mother's voice?"

"Since the night she died."

"What exactly does she tell you?

He turned to look at me. In the moonlight, his face looked ghostly pale.

"She tells me everything. About Dad and the blonde lady. About the fire. About how they planned it all."

My throat went tight. "What else?

"She says Dad knows you have her diary. She says he's going to try to make you disappear too. Just like he made her disappear."

I felt dizzy. "Ash, how could she know about the diary if she's

"Because she hid it for you to find. She knew you'd come looking. She knew you'd want the truth."

The room spun around me.

"There's more," Ash whispered. "She says the blonde lady is coming here tomorrow. She says they're going to finish what they started."

"What do you mean?

Before he could answer, we heard it again.

The scratching in the walls.

Then Evelyn's voice, clearer than before.

"Riley. The basement. Look in the basement. Behind the furnace. Before it's too late."

The scratching stopped.

The house went dead silent.

I looked at Ash. His eyes were wide with fear.

"What's in the basement?" I whispered.

"I don't know. But Mom says you need to find it. Tonight."

I stood up on shaking legs. Every instinct told me not to go down there. Not alone. Not in the dark.

But Evelyn's voice echoed in my head.

Before it's too late.

I was at the bedroom door when Ash called out softly.

"Riley?"

I turned back.

"Mom says to tell you something else."

"What?"

His voice was barely a whisper.

"She says the fire wasn't the first time."