Made it home. Lit some sage. Slept with the lights on for two weeks.
Brenda tried to text me updates about Kevin's "condition" - blocked.
I got a priest on speed dial and my entire apartment is booby-trapped with salt circles and LED lights.
Now, I only hang out in public places with emergency exits and at least three bars of cell service. Someone says "Let's go hiking"?
I say, "Let's not."
Someone says "Let's explore an abandoned place"?
I say, "You go ahead. I'll write your obituary."
Moral of the story?
The minute I hear "hello?" in an empty hallway -
I'm gone.
No heroic sacrifice.
No looking back.
Just me, a hoodie, and common sense