Claimed By My Stepbrother novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Camila POV

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, the chill of the air biting at my fingers as I made my way to the bus stop. The world was still waking up, the soft hum of cars passing by and the crunch of my boots against the pavement the only sounds breaking the silence.

I was almost there when I saw her- a frail old woman struggling with way too many grocery bags. She was dressed like she had raided a secondhand shop blindfolded: mismatched patterns, a scarf that had seen better days, and shoes that looked older than I was. Her hair stuck out in all directions, wild and unkempt, and her muttering to herself was doing nothing to make her seem less unhinged.

I told myself to keep walking. I really, really did. But the can of soup she dropped rolled straight into my path like fate was nudging me to intervene. My better judgment screamed mind your fucking business, but of course, I ignored it.

“Damn it,” I muttered, stopping mid–stride. “This is how people get kidnapped in horror movies.”

Still, I turned back, crouching to pick up the runaway can. “Here,” I said, stuffing it into one of her overstuffed bags. “Let me help you with that before everything falls apart.”

That’s when she looked at me.

And not in the grateful, “oh, how kind of you” way. No, this was a full–on what are you doing in my swamp glare. Her watery gray eyes narrowed as she stared at me like I had grown a second head.

“Uh… you’re welcome?” I offered weakly, standing back up.

Then, without warning, she leaned in close and sniffed me.

Yes, you read that right. She. Sniffed. Me.

“What the actual fuck?” The words came out before I could stop them, and I instinctively took a step back.

1/3

Chapter 18

Her lips twitched into what might have been a smile if it weren’t so… creepy. “You smell… different,” she rasped, her voice scratchy, like she hadn’t had water in days.

“Okay, well, that’s not weird at all,” I said, holding up my hands. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but-”

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

The way she said it, low and deliberate, sent a chill straight down my spine.

“Right,” I said, forcing a nervous laugh. “Thanks for the heads–up, Grandma, but I

gotta go. Good luck with your…” I gestured vaguely at her bags. “Stuff.”

I turned on my heel and walked away as fast as I could without outright running. Her

words echoed in my head, though: You’re not supposed to be here. What the hell did that

mean?

I glanced back over my shoulder, half expecting to see her shuffling after me like

some zombie from a horror flick, but she was still standing there, watching me. Her gaze

never wavered, and it felt like her eyes were boring into the back of my skull even as I

rounded the corner.

My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to shake off the encounter. “This is insane,”

I muttered to myself. “First shadows in my room, now sniffing old ladies? What’s next,

cursed mirrors?”

The bus stop came into view, and I let out a shaky breath. A few other people were already waiting, scrolling through their phones or sipping coffee like everything was

normal. Lucky them.

I plopped down on the bench, trying to steady my nerves. But my thoughts kept spiraling back to the weirdness that had been following me like a shadow lately.

It all started when I moved into that cursed mansion. The eerie silence, the way

Ethan seemed to be everywhere, the unsettling dreams… and now this? A random old woman telling me I didn’t belong?

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify