# Whispers in The Frozen

Kevin trudged back into the frozen castle, the stone arches and glittering ice-blue walls rising around him like a fairy tale left too long in the cold. The evidence bag with the milk bottle felt heavy in his hand. He dropped it on the table beside his phone, the plastic crinkling in the silence.

Exhaustion pressed down like wet concrete. He fired off a quick text to his contact at the department—Milk in evidence. Pick it up at the castle tomorrow morning. Keep it quiet—then collapsed onto the couch. He pulled the crocheted blanket over himself, one of the few soft things left in the place, and shut his eyes, letting sleep drag him under.

The creak came anyway.

A floorboard groaned near the arched doorway. Kevin’s eyes snapped open. He jumped up to a sitting position and tossed the blanket off in one sharp motion, heart thudding against his ribs like a cheap drum in a back-alley bar.

Two shadows stood framed in the icy archway, snowflake patterns catching faint light behind them like mocking stars.

He recognized them immediately. The taller one with the larger build had haunted the Walmart entrance for months, her cardboard sign faded from too many rainy days. The other one, thinner and sharper-eyed, was the woman he’d slipped forty bucks to more than once when guilt got the better of him.

Kevin stayed seated on the couch, rubbing his forehead slowly, the blanket now pooled at his feet. He felt stupid. Exposed. The fancy castle, the expensive neighborhood—everyone knew the “popular guy” who lived in the frozen Disney knockoff. He must have left the damn door unlocked again. No tools in their hands. No bags. Just two women who looked like they’d walked through every gutter in Townsend.

The taller one spoke first, voice low and rough like gravel under tires. “We heard about what’s going on with your niece, Kevin.”

He stared at them from the couch, still catching his breath. “How the hell do you know my niece?”

The second woman shifted in the arched doorway. “Word travels on the streets. Especially when it’s a young autistic girl getting stalked in a neighborhood like this. Rumors run through the groups faster than the cops ever do. We heard she used to go to that health community for autism support a couple months back. That’s where it started, they say. Some guy there got a crush. Wants to date her. Might be the one leaving little gifts like that milk bottle.”

Kevin rubbed his head again, the chill of the castle pressing in. He felt foolish sitting there in his own home, heart still hammering while two strangers stood in his icy archway like they belonged. “You picked the lock? Or did I really leave it open like an idiot?”

They exchanged a quick glance. The taller one continued, “We’re not here to rob you. You’ve always been decent—slipped us money when most people look right through us. Figured we’d return the favor. We don’t know if it’s solid, but that’s what’s floating around the lot. We don’t want trouble.”

Kevin let out a slow, bitter breath. The castle felt colder than usual. Bare walls, minimal furniture, everything half-finished since Leslie walked out. After Karen’s drunken messes on top of that, he wasn’t sure he had the stomach for anything serious again. Except maybe Ziva. Those quiet feelings he kept buried deeper than the rest—he wasn’t ready to name them yet.

He reached for his wallet without standing, pulled out two twenties, and held them out. “This is all I’ve got on me right now. Haven’t hit the ATM.”

The women stepped forward just enough to take the bills, their movements careful in the arched entrance. No thanks. Just the weary nod of people who lived on the edges and knew the price of information.

They slipped back through the icy doorway as quietly as they’d appeared, the creak of the floor fading behind them.

Kevin stayed seated on the couch, the crocheted blanket still pooled at his feet, the evidence bag glowing faintly on the table like a bad omen. He stared at the empty archway, mind turning the new pieces over like stale cards in a losing hand.

A crush from the autism group. Rumors running through the homeless circles. A stalker who might be closer than anyone wanted to admit.

He didn’t fully trust it. Street tips were usually half lies soaked in desperation. But it was more than he’d had an hour ago. John hadn’t turned up anything useful, even after shaking down the neighbors.

The frozen castle felt heavier now, the snowflake patterns on the walls mocking him with their false cheer. Kevin pulled the blanket back over his legs and closed his eyes again, but sleep stayed far away.

Somewhere out there, a shadow was watching his niece.

And now the shadows were starting to talk back.

Whispers in The Frozen Castle