I almost open the door. My feet take me to it. My fingers touch the cold metal of the latch. Whatever is outside, slams into the door again, and I almost do it. I almost pull the latch free and turn the knob and open it. I want to see her more than anything. I want to hug her. I want to hold her. I want to-

It's when she speaks again that my heart breaks. "Samiya!," she wails. "I'm feeling terrible! I think I'm coming down with something again. Please let me inside. Be a good sister!"

Jia would never admit that. She'd never say she felt bad or weak or upset. She'd just bottle it up and try her best. She once threw up in the hospital and tried to clean the mess before the nurses could arrive.

My shaking fingers stop. Longing twists like a knife in my gut. I back away from the door, staring, not daring to even blink as tears run down my face. It's not Jia. That's not Jia. It can't be Jia. Jia's dead.

The thing must have access to my thoughts somehow. It bangs harder and harder, shouting all the while. The wooden door shakes violently, and I keep thinking it'll erupt off its hinges any second now. How does the woman sleep through this? I glance at Squishy as if it might help, but the little creature's fast asleep. The light is dim.

"C'mon Sam!" Jia's voice says. It's getting aggressive. Then it's the man again, all deep and angry. "Sam! Such a delicious name... I bet your sweet body's just perfect to suck clean. I'll eat your bones, girl. I'll take good care of you. You'll never hurt again! Just open the door and let me in!"

I back away till I'm against the stairwell, my heart pounding. I sit on the bottom step and clamp my palms over my ears.

"The witch doesn't have to know! Just let me in. I'll fix everything. I'll take you home. I'll bring your mom back."

That's when it turns into mom's voice. It even has her accent. She's drunk. She's smashing glass against the door. I almost think it's broken a window.

"You stupid, stupid girl. Useless. Always going to be like that. Always the same mistakes. Why can't you be more like your sister? Open the door!"

It hammers the door, a relentless knocking that sounds like mom trying to get into my locked room. I’m never supposed to lock the door. She’s my mom; she’s always supposed to have access. I have no privacy from her. I shut my eyes.

"I need water, Samiya. Please get some water for your poor, tired mother. I work hard all day!"

On and on it goes. My boss yells at me. Professors shame my schoolwork. Friends I haven't spoken to in months berate me for ghosting them. Jia's voice keeps coming back. She's the sweetest, the only one who pulls on my heart, but she's always begging for help. It's not her. I know it's not her.

No matter how hard I squeeze my hands against my ears, the voices pierce through me. I curl into a ball, crying and shaking. I want to turn back into Squishy. But I don't want to risk damage to the cottage anymore. The only comfort is what the woman said. Don’t open the door no matter what. That thing can't get inside unless I open the door.

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I'm not sure when it stops. I'm not even sure if I drift off to sleep or not. All of a sudden, it's quiet. The storm is over; the knocking is just a distant, terrible memory. I crawl back near Squishy, where it's warmer, and I lay down on my side, using my arm as a pillow.

I think that's when I fall asleep. My dreams are disturbing and bizarre. I'm that squirrel again. My bushy tail helps me balance as I climb up a tree like a fuzzy rocket. I cling onto an enormous branch, hanging upside down. A scent catches my attention, something sweet and juicy... a human. A girl. But humans don't smell like this. Never this good. I leap into the snow and then dart across, following the messy trail the human leaves in her wake. I'm enormous but light as a feather; the snow is my home. Power surges through my legs and into my paws. I'm an invisible blur bearing down on her. I'm going to eat her. I'm going to chew through her and keep the juicy insides fresh in the snow and -

Someone clears their throat. I startle awake to see a giant of a man glaring at me through circular glasses. "Miss?" he asks calmly in a deep voice that reminds me of the thunder. "Would you mind explaining what happened to my chair?"

I just stare back, my eyes wide, not even daring to breathe. I'm still half asleep and trying to make sense of this. He's enormous, maybe over six feet tall. His gray hair almost touches the ceiling, and his dark bathrobe doesn't hide his large muscular frame at all. He's clean-shaven, and his hair is long and thick and gray, and with those glasses, he looks like a scholar. A really muscular scholar wearing a bathrobe.

I glance down at his hairy legs, then at Squishy. It’s fast asleep, glowing faintly. The olive scent has faded, and the cottage is freezing. The floorboards, the air, everything is colder even than the snowy woods. I start shivering; the cold reaches right into my soul, numbing my tongue and presenting as a headache.

"I- I don't know," I stammer, glancing at the broken chair. It's in a heap of ashes and splintered wood. The dirty rag sits on top of it. Then I feel bad for lying. I lick my lips and try again. "I burned it by accident."

The man clears his throat again. He shakes his head and walks away, hands clasped behind his back. How did he even get inside? Surely, I would've heard the door open? It's latched shut from the inside! Did he come from upstairs? Is he the woman's husband or something?

He sighs deeply, still turned away from me. "Very well, young miss. Thank you for being honest with me. Are you the new servant girl? The last one... poor thing." He runs a hand through his hair and stares at the scorch marks on the floorboards with a great sense of sadness.

Servant girl? But I don't get the chance to respond.

"I shall require a brand-new chair by tomorrow around this time. Similar build. Sturdy. You see, I am quite fond of Lady Kivuli's literature." He motions to the books with one hand, a smile on his face. But then he gets cross again. "I don't appreciate missing a night of reading, but perhaps a stroll along the beach will do me good. Perhaps the waves have stolen treasures from the storm. Yes. Hmm. That shall be my plan for this morning. Have yourself a lovely day. And I do hope you last longer than the previous girl."

"I'm not a-" I start to say, rather hotly, finally managing to wake up and get over the shock.

But it doesn't matter. He doesn't hear me. He adjusts his glasses, straightens his shoulders, and he almost looks regal in that stance, then walks right through the heavy curtains. The immense cold vanishes instantly. It's like all the warmth comes back to the cottage, and even Squishy seems to brighten in its sleep. I stare at the spot for a long time. The curtain wasn't even disturbed.

Did I just get yelled at by a very angry but polite ghost? When I stand, my legs are trembling. I rush over to the door built into the side of the stairwell, pull up my gown, and pee, squatting over a chamber pot in the dark for the first time in my life. That's when I remember the woman mentioned someone named Rhinestone would visit. I guess that was him.