I am, but the alcohol has only made my anger more potent. Before Daya can stop me, I’m unlocking the front door and barreling into the house. A single light is on over my kitchen sink, too weak to illuminate the front of the house properly. No one is waiting for me, so I start flipping on lights to diminish the ominous tone in the air. “Come out, you freak!” I yell, storming into the kitchen and grabbing the largest knife I can find. When I turn, Daya is standing in the doorway, looking around the room with an alarmed expression on her face. I was so intent on killing the bastard, I didn’t even bother to look around. The entire living room is covered in red roses. My mouth pops open, and the words on my tongue stutter and evaporate. I turn and spot an empty whiskey glass sitting on the counter, a dribble of alcohol at the bottom of the glass, and a distinct mark on the lip. Lying next to the glass is a single red rose. My widened gaze clashes with Daya's. All we can do is just stare at each other in shock. Heart in my throat, I finally choke out, “I need to check the rest of the house.” “Addie, he could still be here. We need to call the police and leave. Now.” I bite my lip, two halves warring inside me. I want to look for him, confront him, and stab him in the eye a few times. But I can’t endanger Daya more than I already have. I can’t keep being stupid about this. Relenting, I nod my head and follow her out of the manor. The brisk air doesn’t even penetrate the ice settling in my bones. What else did he do? A snarl forms when I realize that he probably went into my bedroom. Touched my underwear. Maybe even stole some. The operator's voice cuts through my thoughts. I was so zoned out, I hadn’t realized Daya called the police for me. She describes the situation, and after a few minutes, the operator dispatches an officer and lets us know it’ll take him twenty minutes to get to us. I know the stalker isn’t here anymore. I know it in my bones. But I’m hoping he’s a criminal and in the system, that way his DNA from the whiskey glass will identify him. But just like I know he’s no longer here, I know it won’t be that easy to catch him either.