Chapter 3

He started firing off questions over the phone.

"Kitty, how's the place treating you? Nothing wrong with it, right?"

His tone was warm in a way that didn't fit.

I glanced at the camera feed.

All four of them were frantically shoving things into the attic.

"It's great, Homer."

I slowed my steps.

"How've you been lately? Work going okay?"

He kept it up.

If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought he'd lost his mind.

The house had been sold for over half a year, and now he pulls this out of nowhere.

"Same as always, can't complain."

I drew the words out on purpose.

Every step slow and unhurried, like I was out for a stroll.

On the feed, the living room was nearly cleared.

The pot carried off, the trash bags all flung into the attic.

Three more minutes and they'd have everything back in place.

"Oh, right, Homer, how are your sons doing these days?"

I steered the topic somewhere else on purpose.

Homer clearly froze for a second.

"Ah, good, good, they're all doing fine."

As I spoke, I stopped at the foot of the stairs and stayed put.

Give them a little more time.

It went on like that for about five minutes.

Then Homer suddenly said something had come up and hung up.

I opened the camera feed.

The living room was spotless, as if nothing had ever happened.

Even the creases in the cushions had been smoothed out.

I put the phone away and went up to unlock the door.

Changed my shoes as usual, took off my jacket.

Every move exactly like any other day.

Every room upstairs had a hidden peephole.

Four pairs of eyes watching me at every moment.

When I learned about it in my last life, my skin crawled.

Like standing stripped bare in front of someone.

As for now, let them watch.

It didn't matter anymore.

I curled up on the couch and turned on the TV.

Tapped on some hit drama at random.

The phone screen stayed lit, a Bluetooth earbud tucked in my ear.

The sounds from the attic came through clearly.

"Honey, why do you think that little brat came charging back all of a sudden?"

Homer's wife kept her voice low.

"We haven't had our fill up here yet."

The elder son joined in with a complaint.

"Yeah, I even had Tingting coming over tomorrow."

"Now the whole thing's shot."

The younger son cut in.

"You think she'll notice the money's short?"

"And the fact that I took her car for a spin?"

Homer let out a scornful little laugh, unbothered.

"Her? Notice?"

"We've eaten and lived here free for half a year, and she hasn't caught a thing."

"With a brain like that, she could live here a lifetime and never figure it out."

His wife heard that and chimed right in.

"True enough, you don't see stupid like that often."

"But honey, it's way too hot up here."

"I told you to put in an AC and you wouldn't, just bought some junk fan."

"And it cuts in and out. You trying to cook us alive?"

Homer was getting impatient.

"Quit complaining, keep an eye on her first."

"Figure out why she suddenly came back this time."

I leaned back on the couch, the corner of my mouth curving up almost too faintly to see.

A junk fan?

And that was already too much to bear?

In my last life, you left me in that attic to starve for seven days.

I didn't even have a junk fan.

I turned on the AC and pulled the blanket tight around me.

The TV stayed on.

At ten that night, I dialed my best friend.

Put it on speaker, and pitched my voice a little louder as I said,

"Hey, sweetie."

"I want to replace the closets in both bedrooms."

My best friend went quiet for two seconds, then answered.

"Aren't your closets built-in?"

"They are, but the style's dated, I want something new."

I leaned back on the couch, keeping my tone casual.

"Come with me to the furniture warehouse store tomorrow to have a look."

"I'm home the next couple days, might as well get it done."