After parting ways with Josephine, I sat alone in the park for a while longer, allowing the alcohol to wear off.

The crisp evening air was a welcome relief, and I found myself reflecting on how suffocating it would be to return home, to that place where anger and tension simmered just beneath the surface.

The sun set slowly, casting long shadows across the park. What had once been filled with the laughter and chatter of children had now fallen silent. Even the usual noise of playful kids had died down as their parents called them home.

The autumn breeze carried a chill, and I could feel the last remnants of my anger dissipating with it. I flicked the dust off my jacket and decided it was time to head home.

But as I stepped through the door, the house was plunged into darkness. There were no lights on.

I stopped for a moment, puzzled. Was the power out?

"Honey?"

"Finn?"

There was no response. The silence was thick and oppressive. Finn was nowhere to be found either.

From the direction of the storage room, I heard a sound—an odd, sickening crack, like the sound of bone being hacked into. My body tensed as I instinctively crouched low and moved toward the source of the noise.

The door to the room was ajar, with the faintest sliver of light leaking through.

As I approached, I peered through the crack. I saw Lily with her back to me. She seemed to be chopping something.

The room was too dark for me to make out much more, but I could see the vague silhouette of her movements.

Then, suddenly, a loud clatter broke the stillness.

Something small and soft brushed past my ankle, a round object, furred and cold.

My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

I bent down instinctively and pulled out my phone to illuminate the space. The light flickered on, revealing the object—a head.

Finn's head.

My pulse spiked, and panic clawed at my throat. The realization hit me like a hammer: Lily had been chopping her brother, Finn, and the sound I heard was the sickening crack of bone.

As my eyes darted up, Lily turned to face me. Her expression was ghastly, her face as pale as death.

A twisted smile, as cold and empty as ever, played on her lips.

Her bloodless mouth moved, forming the words, "Honey?"

I stared at her, transfixed, as she approached. Her hands were stained with fresh blood.

My body felt frozen, and the sound in my throat was trapped, useless. She drew closer, and the darkness in my vision closed in on me.

The next thing I knew, I was blinking awake, the harsh light of day spilling through the window, yet it brought no warmth.

"Ahhh! Stay away from me!"

A scream split the air, sharp and high-pitched, and I jerked upright in bed, my heart hammering in my chest.

The bedroom. Was it just a dream?

"Darling? Are you awake? Come get up and have some breakfast. Why are you lying down like that last night?"

It was Lily's voice, but it wasn't the soothing tone I was used to. There was an eerie quality to it, one that sent a chill crawling down my spine. It was as though the words were dripping with something dark and cold, something from the depths of hell.

"Finn? Where's Finn?" My voice was hoarse, laced with fear I couldn't suppress.

"Oh, he had something to take care of, so he left early," she responded nonchalantly, as if it were nothing.

She turned to leave, her footsteps soft, almost too light, and I listened intently, waiting until the sounds faded.

Only when I was sure she had gone to work did I get up. My limbs felt heavy, my mind racing with confusion and dread.

I made my way to the storage room, only to be met with an odd calm. It was spotless, untouched, everything in its place, just as it always had been.

No blood, no sign of anything unusual.

"Darling, what are you doing here?"

Her voice drifted in from behind me, soft but chilling.

I spun around, stumbling back in panic. My heart pounded in my chest as I stammered, "Nothing, just... just came to look around."

Lily chuckled. She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around my waist, and rested her head against my shoulder.

"Are you still upset about yesterday, darling?" she murmured, her voice low and soothing.

"No. I'm not upset. Not at all." I forced the words out. The warmth of her body pressed into mine, and I could feel her body heat mingling with the cold sweat of fear crawling across my skin.

When she heard me say this, her grip tightened, and she pulled herself closer, her body like a vice.

"I have to go to the office. Something came up," I said abruptly, pushing her away, desperate to escape, to get out of this room, away from her.

"Honey, what's the rush?"

Her voice called after me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.

Why weren't there any signs of what had happened in the storage room? It was as though yesterday had been nothing but a nightmare—a hallucination of my own making.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Lily. She said Finn was back, and he had brought his girlfriend. She told me to hurry home.

The joy in her words was unmistakable. After all, the siblings had grown up without a mother.

Finn was alive?

My heart, which had been clenched in fear, suddenly loosened.

I knew it—I knew Lily couldn't have done such a thing. She had always been gentle and obedient. It was all a product of my stress, my mind playing tricks on me. Just a figment of my imagination, nothing more.

I hurried home.

The doorbell rang, and Finn opened it. The moment he saw me, his expression soured. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "You decided to come back? Well, if you have the guts, don't come back at all."

I couldn't help but feel that something in him had changed, like there was something different lurking in his gaze. Without another word, he turned and plopped onto the couch, immediately glued to his phone.

The sounds of movement came from the kitchen, and Lily stepped out, wiping her sleeves. "You're home," she said, smiling brightly. "Dinner will be ready soon."

I glanced toward the kitchen, where a young woman stood. She looked vaguely familiar from behind. Finn's girlfriend, I assumed.

Before long, Lily was placing dishes on the table—dishes that seemed almost too perfect, all of them my favorites. It was as if she had orchestrated this whole thing. The meal felt like a feast with a hidden agenda, a trap I couldn't escape.

The girl, seeing me, immediately greeted me. "Hello, Ross. I'm Sandra Mckinsey."

She smiled at me, and I returned her smile politely, taking in her white dress. She looked sweet and innocent.

As we all sat down together, Sandra raised her glass. Her voice was soft but full of gratitude. "Thank you for the house, Ross. Now, Finn and I finally have a place to call home."

Her tone was sincere, and her pale face lit up with a delicate smile, one that felt almost excessive. It stirred something cold and bitter in my chest.

I glanced at Lily and Finn, their faces unreadable, each betraying a different emotion.

Lily quickly nudged Sandra's hand, signaling her to stop talking.

"Don't listen to her; she's just being silly," Lily said with a smile. "Of course, Ross is going to give you the house. As long as you two live well, Ross and I will be happy."

Sandra nodded, her innocent smile unwavering.

I remained silent, my thoughts darkening. Then, Finn spoke up with a sneer. "Maybe he doesn't agree. Why the hell are you thanking him?"

His words cut through the tension in the room like a knife, and everyone turned their eyes toward me.

"You're right," I said coldly, my voice sharp. "I don't agree."

Finn's face twisted in disbelief. He hadn't expected me to embarrass him in front of Sandra.

His anger flared, and he slammed his spoon down onto the table. "Ross, don't get ahead of yourself. The house isn't even yours."

"It's not your sister's either," I shot back. "Why should I give it to you, you parasite?"

I was done letting him have his way. I shoved him hard, sending him sprawling to the floor, my eyes boring into him with a cold intensity.

Finn flinched, fear flickering across his face. He scrambled toward Lily, and Sandra hurriedly knelt beside him, helping him up.

Sandra spoke softly, her voice laced with concern. "Ross, don't be angry. Finn didn't mean it. We can talk about the house later."

She tried to smooth things over, but the damage had been done. Finn fell silent, no longer daring to speak.

I huffed out a bitter laugh. "Hmph."

The meal was nothing short of a disaster. It was clear the evening would end in bitterness, a result as inevitable as the setting sun.