Evermine: The House That Loved Me

I’ll tell this the way I remember it… because official reports sand everything down until nothing

sharp remains. They’ll call it a delusion. Shared hysteria. No threat.

They won’t say what it felt like… to be loved by something that wouldn’t let go.

Even after death. Her voice still finds me in the dark. We got the call

for a house on Elm Street. Codenamed Evermine. Realtor vanished. Place should’ve

been empty—demolished years ago. But neighbors saw lights, heard laughter,

love songs at night. Door ajar. Roses fresh. Dinner for two. Candles burning.

Five of us entered. Specialists in obsession cases. I led. I’d lived it once.