She smiled, slow and sharp. "Prove it."
Andy sat on the floor of their shared room, knees pulled to his chest, watching his sister sleep. She was curled on the stained mattress, one hand clutching a butter knife—her "just in case" for the demon in the vents. Her hair was a rat's nest. Her lips were chapped. She was the most terrifying thing he had ever loved. the coffin of andy and leyley
The door to the apartment was still chained. The landlord's body had been gone for three days—they'd shoved it down the garbage chute in pieces, working in silent tandem like a two-headed animal. No one had come looking. No one ever did. She smiled, slow and sharp