As we stepped into the house, the air carried the faint scent of aged wood and lavender, a comforting aroma that made the space feel like home. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the polished wooden floor, the soft glow of a lamp flickering like a warm beacon in the cozy stillness. Mom, her face lined with quiet determination, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and told us that she would first finish her schoolwork before preparing dinner. The faint clatter of her pen against paper soon became the backdrop to our own responsibilities. She suggested that Justin and I complete our homework as well. Without protest, we both retreated to our respective study tables, the soft scratching of pencils filling the silent house. The steady ticking of the clock in the corner marked the slow march of time, blending with the distant rustling of trees outside the window.

  After what felt like an eternity, I set my pencil down, stretching my stiff fingers, feeling the slight ache from gripping it too tightly. Justin finished his work soon after, and together, we made our way to the kitchen, where the rich, inviting scent of cheesy spaghetti wafted through the air. The golden pasta glistened under the dim light, strands coated in a creamy sauce that melted in our mouths, each bite a burst of warmth and comfort. The low hum of conversation filled the kitchen as we savored our meal, our laughter mingling with the occasional clinking of utensils against porcelain plates. The warmth of the food seeped into my bones, soothing away the exhaustion of the day. After dinner, I brushed my teeth, the cool minty freshness lingering as I climbed into bed. As I lay on my back, staring at the wooden slats of the top bunk, my mind drifted to our kind neighbors—the ones who had welcomed us with open arms. A sense of security wrapped around me, like a thick, warm blanket. And then, sleep claimed me, gently pulling me into the depths of dreams.

  A sharp scream sliced through the silence at 3 AM, wrenching me from my slumber. The chilling cry reverberated through the quiet town, piercing the tranquil night. My heart pounded against my ribs as I sat up, the darkness pressing in around me like an unseen force. Down the hall, I heard Mom’s hurried footsteps, the urgency in her movements sending a ripple of unease through my veins. Together, we rushed outside, leaving Justin behind with strict instructions to stay put.

  Outside, a small crowd had gathered in front of Julia’s house, their murmurs blending with the restless rustling of the wind through the trees. Shadows stretched long under the glow of a single streetlamp, flickering in the cold night breeze. Mrs. Smith, her face pale and taut with fear, clutched her shawl tightly around her shoulders as if warding off an invisible chill. Mom reached for her arm, concern etched into her features, her breath visible in the frigid air.

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  "What happened?" she asked, her voice a careful balance of concern and urgency.

  Mrs. Smith’s voice trembled as she replied, her fingers tightening around the edge of her shawl. "It’s Evelyn... She was the one who screamed."

  All eyes turned to the house, and an involuntary shudder crawled down my spine. There, at the front door, sat a goat skull, bound tightly with dried sourbush leaves—the very same one we had discovered while cleaning the attic. My breath hitched. The hollow sockets of the skull seemed to stare back at us, its jagged edges casting eerie shadows on the wooden porch. The scent of something faintly metallic, almost like rust, mingled with the damp earth beneath our feet.

  A hush fell over the crowd. Then, Father Gabriel stepped forward, his expression calm yet unreadable. He picked up the skull with deliberate care, his gloved fingers brushing away a layer of dust, examining it with a solemn gaze before tucking it under his arm. His voice, deep and reassuring, broke the silence. "Do not fear. I will take care of this."

  As he walked toward the church, his dark robes billowed slightly in the breeze, a stark contrast against the pale moonlight. The soft sound of his measured footsteps on the cobblestone path faded into the distance.

  Evelyn, still shaken, stood on the porch, clutching her trembling hands to her chest. Her wide eyes darted between us, searching for some semblance of reassurance. Mom, ever the gentle presence, stepped closer, her voice a soft lull in the tension-thick night. "Evelyn, sweetheart, what happened?"

  Evelyn swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper, yet thick with fear. "I woke up to get some water... and I saw someone outside my window. I-I thought maybe it was my imagination, but when I opened the door, there was no one there. Just... that."

  She gestured toward the now-empty doorstep, her voice catching on the last word.

  The town lingered for a while, whispering speculations, their faces painted with unease. The wind picked up, sending dried leaves skittering across the ground like restless spirits. Slowly, drowsiness took hold, and one by one, the neighbors trickled back into their homes, their hushed conversations fading into the night. Before we left, Mom wrapped an arm around Evelyn’s shoulders, her warmth cutting through the cold that clung to us all. "You are not alone, sweetheart. We’re all here for you."

  I gave her a reassuring hug, the scent of her lavender shampoo familiar and calming against the backdrop of unease. "Everything will be okay," I whispered, though doubt curled around the edges of my thoughts like creeping ivy.

  As Mom and I made our way home, the night air felt heavier than before. The image of the goat skull burned itself into my mind, an unsettling reminder of its first appearance in our attic. The thought twisted in my gut like a cold knot of dread. Something about it felt... deliberate. As I climbed into bed, the whisper of the wind outside the window seemed to carry secrets I couldn’t quite grasp. The wooden floor creaked softly beneath my shifting weight, the sound amplifying the eerie stillness of the house. Sleep came slowly that night, my dreams restless with shadows and hollow,

  staring eyes.