Chapter 3
The next morning, Regulus woke to the smell of burnt toast and the sound of Pandora humming off-key in the kitchen. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and stumbled into the main room.
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Barty called lazily from the couch, flipping through Pandora’s tarot deck like it was a comic book.
“Did you sleep okay?” Pandora asked brightly, sliding an overdone piece of toast onto a plate.
“Fine,” Regulus lied, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Barty raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Ignoring him, Regulus sipped his coffee and turned to stare out the window. But as soon as his eyes landed on the sill, he froze mid-sip.
The rose was still there.
Its petals caught the morning light, vibrant and taunting.
“Barty,” Regulus said, his voice low, dangerous.
Barty barely glanced up. “What?”
Regulus’s pulse quickened as he stared at the two roses sitting on the windowsill, side by side. The second one—fresh and vibrant—was unmistakable. Hadn’t there only been one last night? His heart thudded in his chest as he tried to make sense of it. How could this happen?
“Barty…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “There were only one last night.”
Barty didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked between the roses, then to Regulus, and finally to Pandora, who was watching the whole exchange with a mixture of confusion and wariness.
“Yeah, I—I put the vase their last night” Barty stammered, a frown creeping onto his face. “I swear it was just one. What the hell—”
“Did you move it?!” Regulus snapped, feeling the tension tighten in his chest.
Barty shook his head, his hand still hovering over the window, unsure what to do. “I didn’t touch it. No one did.” He glanced at Pandora, who shook her head in return.
Pandora crossed her arms. “Okay, now this is getting weird.”
Regulus’s mind raced. There was no logical explanation for the second rose. He had definitely only seen one the night before. And Barty—Barty hadn’t touched it.
Regulus stepped closer to the window, inspecting the roses more carefully. The first one was starting to wilt, the petals curling at the edges. But the second one—new, untouched, its petals pristine—was a stark contrast. And it was so close to the first, practically pressing against it as if to whisper a secret.
“No way,” Regulus muttered, a chill creeping down his spine.
Pandora stepped forward, her face now scrunched in concern. “This doesn’t feel like some creepy prank. This is—this is like someone is messing with you, Reggie.”
“That’s exactly what it feels like,” Regulus replied, his voice low, a tightness in his throat. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before grabbing the fresh rose. It was delicate, its stem still firm, and its scent—almost too sweet—made his head spin.
“Take it out of here,” Barty suggested, his voice unusually serious.
Regulus turned, startled by the abruptness in his tone. “Why?”
“Because that’s how these things escalate,” Barty said, gesturing to the roses. “First, they leave you one. Then, they leave you two. And next thing you know, you’ve got someone standing in your hallway with a knife.”
Regulus couldn’t argue with that. He stood there, feeling the weight of the rose in his hand, contemplating Barty’s words. He didn’t want to make a scene, but something about this—this whole situation—didn’t sit right with him.
"Maybe it's time we talked to someone," Pandora suggested, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the room. "This is beyond just a weird obsession. Someone’s out there, and they know way too much about you."
Regulus shook his head. "No one needs to know. Not yet. Not until I figure this out."
Barty raised an eyebrow. “Figuring it out isn’t going to make it stop, mate.”
"Right now, I'm more worried about figuring out who’s behind this than anything else," Regulus snapped, the frustration bubbling up. He walked past Barty and Pandora, back into the kitchen, and placed the second rose in the sink. "We’ll keep it under wraps. For now."
Pandora didn't seem convinced, but she let it slide for the moment. “If you need anything, just... you know where we are.”
Regulus nodded absently, rubbing his temples as he walked back into the living room. “I’m fine. I just… I need some space to think.”
Just as Regulus thought he was finally getting used to the weight of it—the rose, the note, the strange unease—a soft knock came at the door.
The sound jolted him to his core. He stiffened, and when he glanced at the others, both Pandora and Barty mirrored his unease. For a moment, no one moved. Then, cautiously, Barty stepped forward and grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter.
“What are you doing?” Regulus hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Being prepared,” Barty shot back, gripping the knife like he’d just stepped out of an action movie.
“Put the knife down,” Pandora said firmly.
“Why?” Barty shot back. “You don’t think it’s weird that someone’s sending us cryptic notes and flowers and then knocking on our door like this is some casual Tuesday? I’m on to them, and I’m not going down without a fight!”
“You’re not going anywhere with that knife!” Regulus snapped, but Barty was already creeping toward the door, his movements exaggeratedly dramatic.
He pressed himself flat against the wall beside the door, motioning wildly for silence. “Shh! You’re going to give away my position!”
“You’re in the apartment, Barty!” Pandora whisper-yelled.
“Exactly,” Barty said, crouching slightly, as if expecting an attack. “That’s what they want you to think—‘Oh, we’re safe in here. No one could possibly breach our fortress.’ But then BAM! Someone’s through the window, chloroform rag in hand, and you’re waking up in a basement somewhere wondering why you didn’t listen to me.”
“You’re absolutely insane,” Regulus muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“And yet, here I am, the only one taking this seriously!” Barty growled. “Now shut up, and let me—”
He ripped the door open with a wild yell. “NOT TODAY, YOU COWARDLY—”
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Dorcas screamed, stumbling back as Barty waved the knife an inch from her face.
“Dorcas?” Regulus blinked, horrified.
Dorcas, wide-eyed, pushed the knife away with one hand. “What the hell is wrong with you, Barty?”
“You knocked suspiciously,” Barty accused, his grip on the knife tightening. “Admit it. You were trying to throw me off. Who sent you?!”
“Literally nobody!” Dorcas shouted, shoving past him. “I live here, you lunatic!”
“That’s exactly what someone working for the enemy would say,” Barty muttered darkly, still clutching the knife like it was glued to his hand.
Pandora groaned, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “Regulus, please do something about your pet lunatic before he actually stabs someone.”
“Why is this my responsibility?” Regulus hissed.
“Because I’m the only one willing to save us all from whatever psycho is playing mind games with us!” Barty declared, holding the knife aloft like it was Excalibur.
Before anyone could answer, the sound of a window creaking open made them all freeze again.
“Relax. It’s me,” Evan’s voice came from the window.
They turned to see him climbing in through the fire escape, skateboard strapped to his backpack and a bag of takeout dangling from one hand.
“Are you serious right now?” Regulus demanded, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Why are you coming through the window?”
“Because I forgot my key, and I’m not about to hang around while you lot play Clue at the front door,” Evan said, hopping inside with practiced ease.
“Do you people ever lock your fire escape window?” Evan asked, hopping inside like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Not that I’m complaining, but I passed a guy in the alley who definitely looked like he was casing the place. Thought I’d avoid the main door.”
“See?” Barty shouted, pointing dramatically at Evan. “EVEN EVAN THINKS WE’RE IN DANGER!”
“No, Barty, I think you’re the danger,” Evan said, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the knife.
“You’ve been gone all day,” Pandora said, narrowing her eyes.
“Yeah, where were you?” Regulus added, glaring.
“Chill, mom,” Evan retorted, unstrapping his skateboard. “I was out skating. You know, outside, where people exist. Found this killer spot under the bridge—completely worth the sketchy neighborhood.”
“What are you doing here, Dorcas?” Evan asked, leaning lazily against the wall. “Get bored of Charity? Or did they finally kick you out for being insufferable?”
Dorcas rolled her eyes. “I stay over there for a week, and suddenly I’m not alowed to be in my own home!? Real warm welcome, thanks.”
“Some of us get a nice, normal ‘welcome home,’ but I guess you’re just special,” Evan quipped. He spun his skateboard in his hands idly, glancing around the room.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Dorcas followed his gaze, her brow furrowing. “What’s with the flower?”
Regulus crossed his arms defensively. “None of your business.”
“Sounds like it’s exactly our business,”
"Reggie has a stalker thats been leaving him flowera and now we think they broke in." Pandora explained
Evan stopped mid-sip, turning to stare at the rose. Then, with perfect timing, he broke into laughter.
“Oh, my God,” he wheezed. “This is what you’re all losing it over?”
“It’s not funny!” Regulus snapped, arms crossed.
“It’s a little funny,” Evan countered, setting his water down. “I mean, look at it."
“It’s not just the rose!” Pandora cut in, throwing her hands up. “Whoever sent it broke into the apartment.”
“That’s not true,” Regulus muttered defensively. “They could’ve… slipped it under the door.”
Pandora deadpanned. “And the rose that was clearly placed on your windowsill. You think it just floated there by magic?”
Evan tilted his head, smirking. “Oh, yeah. Definitely just a sweet admirer sneaking in to set the vibe. Nothing ominous about that.”
“I don’t need your commentary,” Regulus shot back.
“You’re getting it anyway.” Evan shrugged, kicking his skateboard under the couch before collapsing onto the armrest. “Look, you’ve got two options. Call the cops and let them tell you they can’t do anything because it’s New York, or sit around and wait for them to send you an edible arrangement. Either way, I’m eating my dumplings.”
Dorcas crossed her arms, glaring at Evan. “Or, crazy thought, you could actually take this seriously.”
“Oh, I am,” Evan said, lazily pulling out a container of dumplings. “I’m seriously hungry, and you’re all yelling. Can we multitask?”
Evan stared at Barty, who was still gripping the knife like he was preparing for a showdown. “You do realize no one’s actually trying to kill us, right? Or are you just addicted to drama?”
“Addicted to staying alive,” Barty shot back, gesturing wildly at Regulus. “Unlike some people, I’m not trying to get shanked by some weirdo playing Secret Admirer.”
“For the last time, we don’t know if they broke in!” Regulus snapped. “And maybe—maybe—it’s just someone being nice!”
Barty turned to him, eyes wide and unhinged. “You don’t just leave a rose and a creepy-ass note for someone,Reg. That’s not a ‘kind gesture.’ That’s a threat.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Pandora said, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah? Dramatic? I’ll be dramatic when this ends with me finding Regulus’s body in a dumpster because none of you idiots took this seriously!” He whipped around to face Evan. “And don’t even start. You’d be the first one to trip and die in a chase scene.”
Evan raised an eyebrow, deadpan. “Bold of you to assume I’d even run. I’d just trip you and walk away.”
Barty narrowed his eyes. “You know, that’s why nobody trusts you.”
“Nobody trusts you because you’re holding a knife and plotting booby traps like we’re living in a cartoon,” Evan shot back.
“I am doing what needs to be done!” Barty yelled, jabbing the knife in the air. “None of you are taking this seriously! We’ve got a stalker, Regulus! A stalker! And they’ve already broken into the apartment once—what makes you think they won’t do it again? Or worse!”
Regulus groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate this conversation. I hate all of you.”
“I don’t hate you,” Pandora offered helpfully, lounging on the couch. “But I’m not going to stop Barty from booby-trapping the place, because honestly? I kinda want to see it.”
“Exactly!” Barty shouted, slamming the knife down on the counter with a loud clang.“Thank you, Pandora. Finally, someone who appreciates my genius.”
“Genius?” Evan snorted. “You’re one bad idea away from setting the kitchen on fire.”
Barty’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, my God. *Fire.* That’s it!” He spun on his heel and darted for the junk drawer, throwing it open and rummaging through its chaotic contents.
“No. Absolutely not,” Regulus said firmly, standing up.
“You don’t even know what I’m doing yet!” Barty shouted back, voice muffled as he dug deeper into the drawer.
“I know you,” Regulus snapped. “And I know whatever you’re about to suggest is going to end with me having to explain something ridiculous to the landlord.”
“Or the cops,” Evan added, leaning against the counter with a dumpling in hand.
Barty whipped around, clutching a roll of duct tape, a pack of sparklers, and—somehow—a bag of marbles. “Relax. This isn’t for the landlord. This is for the stalker.”
“What the hell are you planning to do with marbles and sparklers?” Dorcas asked, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and horror.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Barty replied with a maniacal grin, dumping his supplies onto the counter.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Regulus groaned, flopping back onto the couch. “We’re going to die. Not because of the stalker—because of Barty.”
“Speak for yourself,” Pandora said, grinning. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all week.”
“Glad someone appreciates me,” Barty said, already taping sparklers to the marbles. “When this stalker trips on my masterpiece and we catch them red-handed, then you’ll all be thanking me.”
“Yeah, right before we all die in a sparkler-induced apartment fire,” Evan.
“Look,” Barty started, in a tone that suggested he thought himself very wise. “I’m just saying we need to be prepared for literally anything. This stalker could be anywhere, watching us.” He glanced dramatically at the window. “Planning their next move. And you’re all just sitting here like it’s fine.”
Dorcas crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You don’t actually care about any of this, do you?”
Barty blinked at her, feigning innocence. “What? Of course I do! I’m just trying to keep everyone safe.”
“Bullshit,” Dorcas deadpanned. “You don’t care about safety. You’re just bored, and this gives you an excuse to be a walking cartoon character.”
“That’s outrageous,” Barty said, clutching his chest like she’d shot him. “I’m deeply hurt by your lack of faith in me, Dorcas. I’m doing this for Regulus."
“Oh, really?” Dorcas raised an eyebrow, gesturing at the counter. “Then explain the sparklers. And the marbles.’”
“Classic defense tactics,” Barty said, puffing his chest out. “Do you even know how many criminals are stopped by marbles every year? No, you don’t, because it’s classified.”
Evan snorted into his water bottle. “You’re an idiot.”
“Call me an idiot all you want,” Barty shot back, waving a hand dismissively. “But when this apartment is a fortress of unbreachable defenses, you’ll all be begging to be on my team. You’ll say, ‘Oh, Barty, you were so right, please let me into your impenetrable haven!’ And I’ll consider it. Maybe.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Dorcas said, her expression unimpressed. “The only thing you’re protecting is your own entertainment.”
Barty grinned, clearly delighted. “And isn’t that what life’s about, Dorcas? Finding joy in the little things? Like—oh, I don’t know—watching a stalker trip over a tripwire and land face-first in a puddle of marbles?”
“That’s so specific,” Pandora said, laughing from the couch. “Did you already picture it happening?”
“Of course I did,” Barty said proudly. “And let me tell you, it was glorious.”
Regulus groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate all of this.”
“No, you don’t,” Barty said smugly, crossing his arms. “You secretly love that I’m the only one taking this seriously.”
“You’re not taking it seriously!” Regulus snapped. “You’re turning this into some chaotic experiment to see how far you can push us before we snap!”
“Pfft, that’s just a bonus,” Barty said, winking.
Dorcas threw up her hands. “I’m not helping with this. If you set the apartment on fire, I’m not covering for you.”
“Typical” Barty said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No vision. No commitment to the bit.”
“You’re actually insane,” Evan said, watching as Barty started taping sparklers to the counter for reasons nobody wanted to ask about.
“I’m pragmatic,” Barty corrected, grinning. “And maybe a little insane. But when Reg’s stalker gets owned by my defenses, you’ll all owe me an apology.”
“And when we get evicted for your ‘defenses,’” Regulus said through gritted teeth, “you’re paying for it.”
“Details!” Barty said, throwing his arms up gleefully. “Now, who’s got string for the tripwire?”