Chapter 4: The Truth Behind the Haunting

“About half an hour ago, I heard a baby’s cry, just like Billy’s wife said—sometimes crying, sometimes laughing. It lasted about twenty minutes. There was no other sound in the house. I figured you two must be asleep. I didn’t dare leave my room, scared I’d run into something, so I hid in bed. Only when I heard you two talking did I dare come find you.” She clung to Tyler.

Her words tumbled out in a rush. She clung to Tyler, her body shaking. I glanced at Tyler, worry gnawing at me. Something about her story didn’t add up.

After hearing this, Tyler’s face turned pale, clearly scared. He looked at me.

He swallowed hard, glancing at me. His hands trembled as he poured another glass of water. I could see the fear in his eyes, the uncertainty.

“But I never slept. I was waiting for Tyler to come back. Why didn’t I hear any baby crying?” I was nervous, my voice trembling. I didn’t understand.

I looked at Tyler, searching his face for answers. He shook his head, just as confused as I was. My heart thudded in my chest, dread growing with every passing second.

“You didn’t hear it? Not at all?” My mother-in-law stopped crying, confused. I shook my head.

She stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief. I shook my head.

“No. Tyler hadn’t come back, I was worried, sitting in my room waiting. I even went to the bathroom—heard nothing. I thought you were all asleep.” I didn’t want to scare her.

I tried to sound calm, but my hands shook. Tyler frowned, running a hand through his hair. The pieces didn’t fit, and it scared me.

Tyler, hearing this, seemed to relax a bit. He tried to comfort her.

He sat beside her, rubbing her back, voice gentle. He tried to comfort her.

My mother-in-law calmed down, took the water, and drank. She was still scared.

She sipped slowly, her breathing evening out. The tension in her shoulders eased a little. Tyler kept his arm around her, offering what comfort he could.

“Come with me to Caleb’s room, see if he heard anything.” The house was silent.

She stood up, still shaky, and we followed her down the hallway. The house was silent, the only sound our footsteps on the worn floorboards.

We followed her to Caleb’s room. As soon as we opened the door, the smell of whiskey hit us. Even without turning on the light, we could see Caleb asleep on the bed in the moonlight. Clearly, he was drunk and out cold—no way he heard anything. He was out cold.

Caleb snored softly, sprawled across the bed, an empty bottle on the nightstand. I pulled the blanket up over him, tucking it around his shoulders. My mother-in-law stared at him for a moment, then turned away, still trembling.

After sending my mother-in-law back, Tyler and I went to bed. The past few days had worn us out, and we soon fell asleep. I stared at the ceiling.

We lay side by side, too tired to talk. Tyler’s breathing slowed, and soon he was asleep. I stared at the ceiling, listening for any sound, but the house was silent. Eventually, exhaustion won, and I drifted off.

Today was the fourth day since my sister-in-law died in childbirth. For once, we weren’t woken by bad news. Tyler and I were so exhausted we slept past nine. For a moment, I let myself hope.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, warm and golden. I stretched, feeling the knots in my shoulders. For a moment, I almost believed things might get better. Tyler rolled over, mumbling something about coffee.

When I came out, the house was silent. Apparently, my mother-in-law and Caleb were still asleep too. I tiptoed through the hallway.

The quiet was unsettling, like the calm before a storm. I tiptoed through the hallway, peeking into each room. The only sound was the distant hum of the fridge in the kitchen.

Tyler told me to make breakfast while he woke them up. He tried to act normal.

He kissed my forehead, smiling weakly. “Go make some eggs, I’ll get them up.” I nodded, heading for the kitchen. The smell of coffee grounds was oddly comforting.

“Mom? Mom!” Tyler’s voice was sharp, urgent. I dropped the spatula.

Just as I started the coffee, I heard Tyler calling urgently. The hallway was filled with light, but the air felt heavy. Something was wrong.

Both my mother-in-law’s and Caleb’s doors were wide open. But my mother-in-law’s room was empty, and in Caleb’s room there were three people: It was chaos.

The scene was surreal—my mother-in-law huddled in a corner, shaking; Tyler kneeling beside her, frantic; and Caleb sprawled on the bed, naked, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The room smelled of sweat, whiskey, and something sour I couldn’t place.

My mother-in-law was half-crazed, sometimes lucid, sometimes wailing. From her few clear words, we learned she woke at dawn, wanted to discuss the funeral with Caleb, but found him already dead. She then curled up in the corner, trembling until Tyler found her. It was heartbreaking.

She rocked back and forth, muttering nonsense, then suddenly screamed, “My granddaughter is here! Hee hee hee!” She pointed outside with one hand, pulling at her hair with the other. Her laughter was shrill, echoing off the walls. Tyler winced.

Aunt Lisa looked at my babbling, broken mother-in-law and sighed. She looked tired.

She arrived a few minutes later, drawn by the commotion. She took one look at the scene, her face falling. She knelt beside my mother-in-law, whispering a prayer, then turned to us, her eyes full of sorrow.

“Aunt Lisa, please help us! We put up crosses, said prayers, but things keep happening—even Caleb... oh God!” Tyler choked up, punching the wall in frustration. He was losing it.

His fist left a dent in the drywall. He slumped against the wall, shoulders shaking. Aunt Lisa placed a hand on his back, her touch gentle.

Aunt Lisa sat cross-legged, eyes half-closed, lips moving as if in silent prayer. After a while, she opened her eyes and said slowly, “Because he drank.” She looked at the empty bottle.

Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. She looked at the empty bottle.

“What? Drank?” Tyler repeated, confused. He didn’t understand.

He frowned, wiping his eyes. Aunt Lisa met his gaze, her expression grave.

“I should’ve warned you, but your family’s been through so much, I didn’t think anyone would still be drinking.”

She shook her head, regret etched into every line of her face. She reached for the Bible on the dresser, flipping through its pages.

Seeing our confusion, Aunt Lisa put her feet down and said, serious: That scared me.

She leaned forward, voice low. “The crosses usually keep evil away, but if there’s alcohol, it weakens them—leaving cracks for things to get in!”

The words sent a fresh wave of fear through me. I glanced at Tyler, who looked just as shaken. My mother-in-law whimpered in the corner.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, looking at Aunt Lisa and Tyler, trembling. “Caleb was drinking last night!” Tyler nodded, face pale.

My voice was barely more than a whisper. Tyler nodded, face pale.