Chapter 36: The Witching Hour

Jet lag is the single most terrible feeling on earth. It's like experiencing 18 daylight savings changes all at once. Being drunk is more fun. It's 3 am. How on earth did I nap this long?

Sammy is still in the room. I'm glad she's here. I know what they say about 3 am.

They call it the witching hour—the hour of ghosts and ghouls. I know ghosts are real.

Mine lives upstairs in the untouchable room, my room. His name is Chad Jefferson. His physical body is in prison, but his spirit dwells within those walls.

I never want to open that door again. No amount of therapy will ever make me.

When one door closes, another door opens. I don't know if I believe that overly used phrase. What if my life is a hallway with millions of doors, and they are all locked? Where is the key?

The door on my time with Chad has closed. I'm in a hallway, waiting for the next door to open. The next window cracked open will invite me in. Dating Collin was by chance. The door was ajar that day. It was never fully o