It was raining.

The sound of rain tapping against the window was quiet, but my hands were shaking out of habit.

Several months had passed.

After escaping the Baker estate, I thought everything was over. The police investigation, the hospital, the nightmares.

I was slowly reclaiming a normal life.

At least...

That's what I believed.

I avoided raw meat, kept the mirrors covered with cloth... Though many traumas had pushed ordinary things out of my life, I believed this was peaceful enough.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang. I didn't remember ordering any packages, but I headed to the front door without much thought. I wasn't sure if anyone would visit, but I went just in case.

I turned the knob and opened the door.

My breath hitched at the sight of the person standing there. A man stood at the threshold. A worn-out hoodie, a broad forehead, black hair, and that familiar smirk twisting the corners of his mouth.

Lucas Baker. The man who definitely should have died in that mansion that day.