Authors' Note:

Thanks for being patient!

Here's a longer chapter for you (:

Also thanks, as always, for the new favourites and follows 3

Hope you enjoy!

Tate was blabbering.

I'd stopped listening to the words coming out of his mouth three blocks ago, and yet they continued to flow. Not that I was complaining. It gave me time to think, that was for sure. I didn't know how to ask the question that was burning in my brain, sitting on the end of my tongue, begging to be said out loud.

How did you ask someone if they were sure there was no one in their room last night without sounding like a total, and complete, freak?

The answer was you didn't.

Instead, you made an excuse to get into their house and have a look around – much easier that way.

"Let's study today." I said, interrupting Tate in the middle of a sentence. He blinked at me slowly, mouth still half open from where he had been about to say something.

"Ah, yeah, sure. I guess." Tate replied with a slight frown, suddenly falling silent as we kept walking. I could tell he was confused by my behaviour, and my actually suggesting we study for once since I was always the one objecting to that particular suggestion.

We walked the rest of the way home in silence, for the first time, a kind of awkwardness seemed to hang over us, and I was beginning to wonder if I had played this wrong – maybe it would have been easier to mention it casually, like – "Oh yeah, I was up late doing the English assignment and saw you walking in your room." Or – "I think Addie tried to clean up the paint last night, I saw someone pacing in there."

Yeah, way to sound like a stalker much Calypso. No, I had definitely made the right decision.

Finally, we walked up to the corner where we would normally go our separate ways, Tate heading up the path to his front door, and me continuing down a little further before doing the same. Today we both hesitated.

"Do you want to study at yours, Addie's probably just going to keep interrupting if we go to mine." Tate suggested quietly after a few moments of silence. I hesitated, unsure of what to say. The plan had been to get inside Tate's house and have a look around. Although I was unsure what I was looking for and how I was going to search the place without seeming weird, I felt like I had to do this.

"Ah, not really. Thing is, I'm kind of avoiding Pete." I lied. My new step-father was an easy excuse to use, one because Tate had never officially met him, and two, because I had numerous stories about arguments I'd had with him. Me not wanting to be around him for a few hours because we'd had an argument was a believable story, and one that was likely to get Tate to change his mind this time.

"Have another fight?" Tate asked, his brown eyes searching my face suddenly, as if he would be able to glean the answers just by looking at me. I nodded without saying anything, unwilling to delve too deep into the lie. Quiet settled over us as he said nothing further, and for a second I thought that he wouldn't give in. "Fine. Come on." Tate sighed and then turned on his heel and led the way up the path to the front door.

As I followed behind him, I wondered about his initial reluctance to go to his place. Maybe he was avoiding something too? I would have to find out.

Before he could even reach for the door handle, the front door swung open, making Tate roll his eyes as Addie was revealed, smiling widely at us both.

"Tate! Calypso!" She said happily, gesturing at us to come inside. It was apparent that she had been at the front door, waiting for Tate to come home and had watched us walk up to the house.

"Hey, Adelaide." I greeted, ensuring I gave her a big smile and a hug. She was always so happy, and the few times that I had met her, I always felt lighter, as if she was a ray of sunshine, melting all my problems away.

If only.

"Calypso and I are going to study, okay?" Tate was already climbing the stairs, not looking back at either of us as he went.

"See ya' later, Addie." I said quickly, hurrying after him.

"Ugh. Still smells in here." Tate said as he opened the door to his bedroom, nose wrinkling in disgust as he threw his backpack to the ground. I paused for just a second at the entry way to the room, realising with a start that I had never actually been in here. Sure, I'd been inside the house a few times, but most of the time we had just been in the kitchen – I'd never had a reason to go up the stairs before, let alone into Tate's bedroom.

I walked in, recognising the overpowering smell of acrylic paint. In small doses the stuff wasn't too bad, but a spill of it would quickly take over a whole room. I couldn't help but grin as I saw the slightly darker patch of wood.

I had made the same mistake with acrylic paint many times in my artistic youth – I was now almost immune to the smell of the stuff, having refused to sleep anywhere but my own bed when I was younger.

"So – what did you want to start with?" Tate asked, collapsing into the chair at his desk, swivelling it around to face me. I shrugged as I entered the room further, deciding to sit on the bed, sitting my bag on the ground by my feet.

"Bio?" I suggested, making Tate groan dramatically as he reached for his textbook.

"I'll get us some drinks." Tate said as he left the room. I didn't bother responding, knowing he was already gone.

We'd been at it for a few hours now and had begun to shift our attention onto other topics. I was currently laying on Tate's bed on my back, head hanging slightly over the edge, scrolling through my twitter feed.

Movement at the half open door had me rolling over onto my stomach, thinking Tate was back already. Glancing up I was surprised when no one walked through the door. Thinking it may have just been Addie walking past, I continued to scroll until the same movement caught my eye once again.

Frowning, I sat up this time, setting my feet onto the ground, but still sitting on the edge of the bed.

I watched the door intently this time. What the hell was going on in this house.

Just as I was about to give up and deem myself officially crazy, I saw it again.

It was the woman from my drawing, pale hair still delicately curled up, necklace clasped around her pale throat, dress intricately beaded. This time she didn't just walk past the door. She stood in the gap, sad eyes staring into mine.

She raised her hand and gestured at me, as if she wanted me to follow her.

I couldn't stop the scream that tore itself from my throat.