The Dead List by Jennifer L. Armentrout

then she spun around, darting back into the bedroom.
    “Mom!” I shouted, looking over my shoulder as my heart pounded so fast I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack. Was she grabbing her ice cream? “We need to get out of here. What are you doing?”
    She returned, her cellphone in one hand, and she tossed me a shirt. Only then did I realize I was standing in the hall in my jeans and a bra.
    Horror sunk my stomach to a new low when I realized that I’d been in my room half naked and so had that—that thing .
    Mom grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the stairs as she spoke into the phone. Breathless, she gave the dispatcher her name and address. “Yes, we’re leaving the house right now.”
    We rushed outside and then across the front yard, the grass warm and wet under my feet. I stopped at the thick hedges and turned back, raising my gaze. My bedroom was in the back of the house, overlooking the backyard, and there was nothing I could see from here.
    My chest hurt as I shuddered. “He had to have gotten in through the window. The front door was locked. He had to have climbed the tree and opened the window.”
    Mom said nothing as she wrapped her arms around me. Within seconds, I could hear the blaring of sirens and the steady approach calmed my nerves a little bit, but all I could think about was that thing being in the house with Mom and for God knows how long.
    Three city police cruises arrived, one after another. One of the cops hustled us out to the sidewalk as two of them went inside, guns drawn.
    I sat down on the curb as Mom repeated to the officer what I said, watching the red and blue lights whirl over the road. There seemed to be no explanation of who I was, as the officer had immediately asked if it was the same kind of mask the attacker had worn Saturday night.
    I nodded. “Yes. It was the same mask. I’m a hundred percent positive on that. And there was a note on it. You’ll see. It said it was my fault.” I looked at my mom. “I don’t understand what that meant.”
    She folded her arm around my shoulders. “I don’t know, honey.”
    Mom stayed with me until one of the deputies called her over to where he was standing near the porch.
    Shoving the hair back from my face, I rested my forehead on my knees. What was the monster doing back? Trooper Ritter had insisted that the attacker most likely fled not only the county, but also the state. So why would he be here?
    For some horrible reason I thought of how the Trooper had asked about Vee and the worst kind of idea popped in my head. What if she hadn’t run away? What if she had been grabbed, just like I almost was, and the guy was coming back….
    It didn’t matter. The cops were here and they had to have found him. Whatever this was would be all over and my life would be normal again.
    “Ella?” Mom’s soft voice called.
    I sat up, spying the other two officers, and I jumped to my feet. I searched behind them, looking for some creep in handcuffs, but there was no one with them. Unease blossomed in my belly. “Did you find him?”
    One of the officers, older with hair graying at the temples, glanced at the other cop. He cleared his throat. “We checked the entire house, top to bottom, and there was no one in your home.”
    “No.” I balled my hands into fists, wanting to hit something. “He must’ve climbed back out the window.” I looked over at Mom and the pinch to her expression confused me. “Did you at least get the mask off the bed? The note?”
    Because I was so not going back into that bedroom with that thing in there. On second thought, I never wanted to go back in there and touch anything he’d had his hands on.
    The cop shifted his weight. “There was no mask on the bed, nothing, and the bedroom window was closed. There’s no evidence that anyone was in the house.”
    It took a few moments for what he said to sink through, and then I understood the look on Mom’s face and the reason why the officers looked so