And eventually, I’m going to have to put a stop to it. Just not tonight. My phone vibrates in my hand, and I sigh when I see it’s my mother. Despite my brain screaming at me not to, I click the green button and slap the phone on my ear. “Hey, Mom,” I greet, trying to keep my voice from betraying how I actually feel. “Hello, honey. How are you doing?” she asks, her prim voice tightening my body into stone. It’s a trained reaction when passive aggressive insults are being slung my way most of the time. “T’m good, just getting ready for the fair,” I answer, glancing over at Daya. We’re in my room getting dressed, a heady sense of anticipation in the air. Satan’s Affair is tonight, and we always have the best fucking time. I know tonight won’t be any different. I'll finally have a night where my headspace isn’t filled with dangerous men and a murder gone cold. Or maybe a particularly dangerous man I haven’t seen in a week. “That haunted fair you go to every year?” she asks derisively. “I don’t understand why you like going to those things. I swear there’s a mental condition associated with finding enjoyment out of horror.” She mutters the last part, but not quiet enough for it to clearly transmit through the phone. Pesky radio signals. I roll my eyes. “Was there a reason you called, Mom?”