“Did the security system help you find any?”

“Not at first. But . . . eventually. Yes.”

CHAPTER NINE

I put one security camera in the kitchen and one on a bookshelf in the Grand Room. The cameras are connected to an app on my phone, so anytime there’s movement, I get a notification.

That was two days ago, and so far the only times it has gone off are when Layla or I walk into view of the cameras.

I came here to focus on Layla, but to say I’ve been distracted would be an understatement. I’m always looking over my shoulder, waiting for something to happen. So much so I disguise my late nights as work, but all I’ve been doing is sitting in the Grand Room, browsing websites about supernatural shit. I stayed up so late last night I ended up falling asleep on the couch.

I just woke up. It’s still dark out now. I’d guess it’s probably around five in the morning. I’m still on the couch, but I haven’t moved since I opened my eyes.

I’m trying to think about what position I was in when I fell asleep, what I was holding, the fact that I wasn’t covered up. Because I don’t remember the blanket I’m clutching. I remember it being on the back of the couch, but I don’t remember using it to cover up with.

When I fell asleep on this couch last night—this blanket was folded and draped over the back of it.

I know Layla more than likely came downstairs and covered me with it, but I still mentally retrace my steps before opening the app.

Layla doesn’t know about the security cameras. I’m not trying to hide anything from her, but I did set them up while she was asleep. I just figured if she saw one and mentioned it, I’d tell her they were here when we showed up so she wouldn’t grow concerned.

But watching the videos recorded by the app is an invasion of her privacy. I just don’t want to tell her I have access to the footage because I don’t want her to worry unnecessarily. I also don’t want her to feel like I’m spying on her.

But in a way, I am. I set the cameras up as a way to catch her in the act. Because who else am I going to catch? A ghost that I don’t believe in? An intruder that can somehow bypass dead bolts?

I move for the first time since opening my eyes a few minutes ago. I sit up slowly on the couch and reach for my phone. I open the app and notice my fingers are trembling as I skip the video back to the moment I fell asleep. Why would my hands be shaking if I think it’s just Layla?

I fell asleep around two in the morning, so I set the video to play around that time. I remain seated on the couch, half-covered with the blanket, and I watch the footage closely, fast-forwarding every few minutes.

At three twenty in the morning, a shadow appears in the doorway to the Grand Room.

Layla isn’t anywhere in the frame, but I can tell it’s her shadow.

A few seconds later, she walks slowly into the Grand Room. She stares down at me as I’m sleeping. Then she covers me with the blanket.

It was Layla.

I’m an idiot. I’m getting inside my own head. Now I’m forcing myself to assume things are happening without some explanation behind them.

I move my finger to stop the video, but my finger hovers over the screen because something Layla does on the video catches my attention.

After she covered me up, her eyes moved straight to the security camera in the Grand Room.

I watch the video with a lump in my throat. Layla peers at the camera for a good fifteen seconds before moving toward it. She walks across the room with a curious expression on her face and then stops right in front of the camera. She doesn’t pick it up. She doesn’t even touch it. She just stares into it as if she wants me to see her.

A moment later, she turns and walks out of the room, leaving me asleep on the couch.

The whole interaction between Layla and the camera is so bizarre; I rewind it and watch it again. But this time, I keep watching the video long after Layla has left the room. There are a couple of times I roll over on the couch, but other than those two movements, nothing else happens in the room.

Until it does.

At approximately 4:29 in the morning, the camera view changes abruptly, and then the video goes black.

I pause the video and look at the security camera perched on one of the bookshelves. It’s pointed toward the wall now.

I immediately stand up and walk over to the camera. I adjust it so that it’s pointing at the Grand Room again.

There’s no way this camera could have turned on its own.

I watch the video no less than fifteen times in an attempt to figure out how the camera could just turn itself, but it can’t. And there was no one in the Grand Room at that point other than me.

I begin pacing the room.

I can’t explain that.

No one can explain that.

And if I were to show it to someone, I’d be accused of faking the video.

Maybe because the video is a fake? Is that possible? Maybe the camera was made to move on its own?

I walk over to the camera again. I pick it up and inspect it for a second time, as if I’m going to find something in the camera that could explain how it could move itself.

What if the app company has a hacker? I could see that happening. Some guy sitting at his computer, manipulating camera angles and positions to scare people.

It’s the more plausible explanation, but I still find myself at the kitchen table on my laptop ten minutes later, researching ghosts and haunted houses.

I create an account using a fake name in a paranormal chat room. I read through the posts in the forum until the sun has fully risen outside.

I roll my eyes at every single one of the stories I read. People who claim to have seen a shadow, or heard a noise, or had a light flicker. All things that can easily be explained.

This shit can’t be explained.

How does a camera move by itself? How does a stove-top burner turn off by itself? How does a rag move from the stove to the sink? How does a laptop type messages to itself and move from one room to another?

I can feel the certainty in my beliefs being chipped away at as I make my own post in the forum. I title it “Skeptic.”

Then I write:

I don’t believe in ghosts. Not even a little. But things have happened that even my skeptic self can’t explain. Appliances turn off by themselves. Objects move themselves. My laptop slammed shut on my hands. My initial thought is that my girlfriend is pranking me, but the timelines and her placement in the house don’t add up with the things that have happened. I’m not sure what I’m expecting you guys to say. I guess I just want another skeptic to explain these things away for me. But how many things have to happen before they can no longer be explained?

When I hit post, I feel like a damn idiot.

I shut my laptop and stare at it.

I’m losing my mind.

Not because weird things are happening—but because I’ve allowed myself to believe they can’t be explained. There’s an explanation for everything. I just have to figure it out.

“You’re up early.”

My whole body jerks at the sound of Layla’s voice. I didn’t even hear her coming down the stairs. She leans in and kisses me before walking to the coffeepot. I made a fresh pot, but that was two hours ago—back when I used to be an idiot and chose to spend an entire morning online reading ghost stories.

I’m no longer that same idiot. I’ve matured in the last two minutes. I’ve come to my senses.