“Do you think it’s linked to the house?” asked me Xander one evening at dinner.

I shrugged. “I think the target is someone not something,” I said vaguely so that Eloim wouldn’t figure out what we were talking about.

“Stop giving this to the dog,” said Xander grabbing the food from Eloim’s finger and putting it back on his plate. “He has all the food he needs in his bowl.”

Miki stood there between Eloim and Xander, sitting straight up and looking at the boy expectantly.

I knew he shouldn’t do this, but it was hard not to find it cute.

“How about we go to spend the weekend at your parents, maybe to see if things are different there?” I suggested.

“Sounds brilliant.”

Since the first night back from his last trip, and especially since our little visit at the police station, Xander had become as keyed up as I, particularly at night.

There had been night when the door would open on its own, when there would be strange creaking around. It meant nothing, but we’d began documenting it every time something suspicious would occur. We had set up a notepad into which we wrote everything.

We both knew that it was easy to get your facts skewed if you let your emotions get involved in the mix, and Xander, even more than I was all about facts. So we had begun our own little investigation, gathering facts and compilling everything.

One thing that seems to correlate was that things happened more around Eloim. Wherever he was.

Of course, Xander made sure to lecture me about how correlation doesn’t mean causation, which I already knew, but I think he was holding on the hope that it was not centered around Eloim so much.

What that meant, deep inside, terrified him.

For one thing, it meant that for years, his son had been haunted and terrified, and he didn’t even know, let alone tried to protect him from it.

Secondly, it’s the fact that he’s just a child. The idea of a ghost can be horrid to an adult, but the sheer helplessness level of a child versus an adult is staggering.

We were both convinced that there was probably no malice coming from Enola. If the stories were to be believed, she had saved Eloim, making sure he would be found, but it didn’t change the fact that her mere presence could be problematic to anyone’s sanity.

Deep down, we weren’t even sure if pushing her away was the right thing to do, but for Eloim to see her this way was triggering so much trauma, that I couldn’t continue this way.

But what do you do then?

I tried to imagine if it had been me in her position, and it only confused me further. Not to be able to touch my child again, hug him, spend time with him, go through life with him, protect him, care for him. It’s a terrifying thought.

As I was thinking this, I thought of if someone would take Eloim away from me, and it hurt. I hadn’t given birth to him, he hadn’t spent months inside of me, I hadn’t even known him for a full year, and yet, the thought of separation was as physically painful as it was psychologically so.

I didn’t keep any shield up to protect myself when I entered this relationship, and now I was starting to see the consequences of it.

I considered that I was making things escalate, and if so, then being away could be maybe better, at least until we found a solution, but the idea ripped my heart apart, and when I mentioned it to Xander, Eloim overheard it and had a massive panic attack at the thought of me leaving. He cried calling me Mommy and hugging me, which ended in a paralysed terror when a painting fell off the wall.

So obviously, the conclusion was for me to stay, but a solution was needed.

As far as attempts to understand what was going on, spending the weekend at the in-laws was not such a bad thing. I really liked Xander’s parents, and they seemed to genuinely care about me too.

Miranda was so good with children, I really hoped I could develop the same intuition she had.

All of Saturday, Eloim was particularly bubbly and both Xander and I were really happy, but we also knew what this could possibly mean. If it was linked to the house, then the house would have to go.

I had fallen head over heels over this house. It was also looking more and more like a home. We had finished Xander’s office, and our living room, the kitchen was completely done and the formal dining room was nearly done. And we had begun work on my studio. My own art studio, just for me. I couldn’t wait to start painting again. I loved painting the house and seeing my ideas come the fruition, but painting on canvas, was completely different.

I had conceptualised a few design ideas for paintings that I thought would look great in certain rooms. The walls were high and stark, and it would be lovely with some art on them. We had a few pieces, either bought or that Xander already had, but I wanted to do a few pieces myself at the very least.

I knew Xander was fond of his office, of everything really. He had had this house for years and couldn’t part with it, even when Enola had begun doubting this project. Could he part with it now? Could we?

Sunday morning we prepared to go on a small hike on the property on one of the footpaths in the woods, and I went upstairs with Eloim to get him better clothes for the trekk.

“Are you ready now?” I asked standing in the corridor above the stairs.

“Yes,” said Eloim walking toward me. He stopped as Miki start growling.

Instead of freezing like he usually did, Eloim rushed to me. “Mommy.”

The moment I heard the words come out of his mouth I felt pressure on my chest pushing me backwards hard. My feet disconnected from the floor for maybe a second or two before I landed backwards, still in shock in the stairs, my head lower than my feet. All air was knocked out of my lungs as I tumbled heavily. I tried to grab at the railing to stop myself from going further down but I didn’t get a good grip and continued tumbling down, every part of my body banging on every surface possible. The only thing I managed to do was tuck in my head to limit any damage there.

The moment I went backwards Eloim started screaming this awful high-pitched child scream that would be interrupted by few intakes of air to continue afterwards.

I could hear the pain in that voice and it was even worse than the pain in my body.

I landed heavily on the ground. I could only take small sharp breath, loud and painful. I didn’t dare move.

I felt the ground shake from the thunder coming my way. I wanted to plead for whoever it was to stop as it made my head pound painfully, but I couldn’t breathe in enough air to form words.

“Mila?” came Xander’s voice. “Get Eloim,” he ordered someone that rushed by me and up.

I was aware he called an ambulance.

He didn’t dare move me anymore that I did, even if I had the strength.

In movies, people always faint after things like this. I would have preferred fainting, it’s always less painful when you’re unconscious, but I didn’t faint. I was not given that mercy.