It came from somewhere on the stairs. I pull up the flashlight app on my phone and scan the stairs. They’re dry. There are no water spots on the ceiling, either.

Drip … drip …

It’s coming from downstairs.

As quietly as the stairs will allow, I creep down to the first floor. I wait at the bottom of the stairs, searching everywhere with the light from my phone. Unconsciously, I steal a glance to the television where I thought I saw the figure earlier, but there’s no one there.

Drip … drip …

Wait … now it’s coming from the dining room.

My blood begins to boil. I believed Stelowski when he said that all the pipes had been inspected. Now, I’m going to have to pay what will probably turn out to be thousands of dollars to fix it.

I go into the dining room and wait … and wait … and wait.

I continue searching the ceiling and the floor but everything is dry. My heartbeat begins to slow. My breathing returns to normal. This is pointless. There’s nothing I can do about it tonight. I’ll look tomorrow in the daylight.

Since I’ve come all that way, I’ll check out the kitchen, just to be thorough. I walk through the entranceway and sweep the light over the stove, counters, and fridge. I check the door leading to the backyard to make sure it’s locked, which it is. Through the window in the door, I can see the moon’s reflection in the black water of the lake.

I have to get back to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll call Stelowski and have him send someo—

Drip … drip …

It’s right behind me.

I swing around, sweeping the light in a wide arc across the floor. It sounded so close, I’m surprised that I didn’t feel the water on my bare ankles, but the floor is dry. I check the ceiling. No water marks. I stand absolutely still, holding my breath, until my muscles begin to cramp and my lungs start to burn. The stillness wins out. The tension flows from me. A new house, way behind on the next book, stress, grief, lack of sleep? Of course I’m hearing things. I tell myself that I have to take it easy and roll with the punches. It’s time to get back to sleep.

I creep back through the first floor and up the stairs. I tip-toe past Caitlyn’s room and down the hall.

I quickly hop into the bed, getting my freezing feet off the floor and slide them under the covers. I punch the pillow, fluffing it up, smooth it out, lay my head back, and wait for sleep to come … and wait … and wait … and wait … and wait …

May 3rd, 1900

Today was the grand opening of the pharmacy.