Ava
I woke up the next morning to the sensation of the warm sun hitting my cheek, although I was still blinking away the remnants of a strange dream. As my consciousness slowly returned, I remembered the events of last night—the banging cabinet, my brief moment of fear.
Now, with the sun shining through the window, it all seemed so silly. I chuckled to myself, shaking my head at how easily I had let that old woman’s story get to me.
Chris stirred beside me at the sound of my voice, his eyes fluttering open. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick and gravelly from sleep. “Something funny?”
I shook my head, stretching and laying my leg languidly over his body. “Nothing. Just laughing at myself for getting spooked last night.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Spooked?”
“I woke
