Arabella went back to the store to see Bertie. She was grateful that he was quick to respond, after all, if anyone would know anything about whatever was happening with her apartment, it would be her next-door (building) neighbors.

At first, Bertie hesitated to confirm through the phone call what exactly was causing the disturbance in her home. She had to retell the experience, starting from the eggs that all mysteriously broke on the first day she moved in, up to the police's indifference.

Whatever it was, only one thing was for certain. They were definitely not rats, and the flypaper would not help her case at all.

She pushed the door open, causing the shop bell to alert the store of her arrival. Arabella found the teenage boy, the one with jet black hair, solitary behind the counter. Upon seeing her, he called for Bertie and within minutes he came out of the small office to assist her.

"I don't mean to bother you, but I would like to take you up on your offer." Arabella smiled sheepishly, she felt uncomfortable asking for favors.

Bertie nodded and took his coat off the hook. "We really didn't want to scare you away from here this early, but maybe it's best that you're the one living there now." He offered her a small smile.

"You seem to be made of sturdier stuff, eh?"

Arabella highly doubted that, but she held her tongue.

"Most would've run away by now. You're good on the head." He chuckled and asked his son to remain in the store. The blonde boy, Alex, if she had heard his name correctly, groaned his disappointment. He really wanted to see her infamous apartment.

"Come on now, I've called her, and she said she's available."

Surprised at the sudden decision, Arabella turned to face Bertie. "Who's available?"

"The one who will help you."

She followed him out of the store and they proceeded to walk down the street towards the subway steps. Although the MTA looked clean at first glance, the walls were tattered with posters and vandalism. They approached a terminal to get a MetroCard. Bertie waited on the sidelines while she fished for some money.

"Yo."

Arabella turned and there was a balding man behind the terminal observing her.

"Do you wanna buy my MetroCard instead? I'm moving to Florida and I won't be needing it anymore. It has 50 dollars on it, but since you seem like a nice girl, I'll give it to you for 32." He sped through his words, as he looked around shiftily.

Arabella was tempted—that would save her 18 dollars! She continued to fish for money in her bag.

"Hey! You!" Bertie approached them in a few determined strides. "Fuck off or I'll have you arrested!"

Startled, Arabella stopped fishing for money and stared at the man who was also spooked by Bertie. "Man, we all just wanna earn some dough. Why you gotta be like that?"

Bertie advanced a step, readying a fist on the side of his chest, and the bald scammer scampered off, even stumbling on his step in his haste to get away.

"You be careful now, Arabella. You're living in the city and we got some shady people 'round 'ere."

She nodded dutifully and placed her money in the terminal, taking a 7-day unlimited MetroCard pass. It was very discouraging to have face a problem like this so soon after having moved. It almost seemed like a sign that she ought to go back to her mother's house instead of striking it out on her own.

If this "friend" couldn't help them, she would be left with two choices. Either to move to another place and risk losing her deposit, which admittedly was a hefty sum, or she would have to move back and risk seeing Richard again. Both choices did not in the slightest way, appeal to her. She hoped to God that this visit worked out, whoever or whatever kind of apartment doctor they were visiting.

After several minutes, Arabella noticed that they had entered Brooklyn, and the people entering the train got more and more quiet. People had headphones on and were in their little worlds. Half were sleeping and half were reading. It was only then that Arabella noticed that people from Manhattan were chatty—they talked endlessly about mundane events and complained a lot too. People in Brooklyn were... chill.

Bertie nudged her before reaching the next stop. The train doors opened, and Arabella was greeted by a fresh slew of people and she observed a large blue sign that read Lafayette Ave. They walked out of the station and were greeted by a colorfully dressed lady who looked awfully like candy tape.

"I know it's you, Bertie," she said in a sing-song voice with a twinkling smile, her rings and bangles clanging as she combed through her hair with her fingers languidly. "You've come for my assistance."

"You're not Angelina," Bertie said matter-of-factly and looked to Arabella as if asking her if his assessment was correct.

Arabella shrugged; she didn't even know who they were going to meet.

The woman's heavily hooded eyes narrowed to relaxed slits. "Oh, Angelina is not available, kind sir." She peered at Arabella and reached out to hold her hand, her cool rings making her skin jump at the contact. "It's you who is asking for help, isn't it? I will gladly help you. This is a helping profession after all."

"Right." Bertie took 50 dollars from his pocket and proceeded to pay the woman who had two scarves wrapped around her neck. The woman was all rainbows and glitters. "Will you come with us? The apartment is at—"

"Her apartment at 10B? Of course, I'll come!" She was all smiles, excited even, but refused the payment. "I'm Sylvia, by the way. And dear, you have nothing to fear. I can feel only positivity surrounding you."

They moved back to the subway, and she pulled Arabella away while Bertie proceeded to buy a MetroCard for the guest.

"Why did you decline payment?" Arabella couldn't help but ask. The girl was acting very mystical. Was she a psychic? Were they asking help from a psychic now?

"I want to help you first, and if you're satisfied then you can shower me with gratitude. But I'd like to be of service first." She giggled, eyes widening as she pointed out a KEANO spiritual ad on the wall. "Unlike these types, I'm here to help you with my gift."

How would Arabella know if she was a legitimate psychic? Is there even such a thing as a legitimate psychic?

"I'm not sure if I believe in ghosts. I just want the eggs to stop breaking."

"Oh honey, they're everywhere! The first step is to believe." Sylvia rubbed her hands together as Bertie approached them for the train ride. "How did I know your apartment? How did I know that it was you who asked for help? I know a great many things, my dear, you've only got to believe!"

Sylvia threw her head back in laughter as they all rode the train back to Windsor Hall.

Arabella pondered silently as Sylvia chattered on and on about auras and mystic beings. She couldn't decide if Bertie believed in all of these, or he was just giving this a chance because the previous owners had exhausted all options.

While it was true that she was surprised that Sylvia was able to guess some specific details upon their arrival, there was also a logical explanation for why Sylvia could have done so. Bertie had set an appointment with a certain Angelina, and Angelina could very well have informed Sylvia of the details to hand over the "case."

The real curious question here was, if Sylvia really was a psychic, why couldn't she guess Arabella's nor Bertie's name? Sylvia kept calling her honey or my dear. Surely if she knew "many great things" a name would be quite easy to read?

Finally, they arrived back at 14th Street, and as they walked to Windsor Hall, Sylvia started singing a random tune which suspiciously sounded like one of Ed Sheeran's hits, just made a little spookier by her out-of-tune humming.

Sylvia stopped humming as Arabella opened her apartment. She casually mentioned that she could definitely feel more than one presence in the old building. Arabella was on the verge of freaking out.

"Do not be afraid, in our culture, ghosts only appear from 6 pm onwards," Bertie spoke for the first time in several minutes. He could probably feel the palpable tension between Arabella and the psychic whose expert opinion they were meant to be trusting.

"It's quite early so we shall be able to make observations first," he said.

Upon entering, Sylvia took a deep breath and placed her bags directly on top of the couch as she took in the "feel" of the place. Her eyes were tightly shut and a wondering expression crossed her face as her head tilted from time to time. She waved her arms in the air to test the room's temperature. After a few moments, she began to nod, keeping her eyes closed, she spoke with Arabella and Bertie in a low, husky voice.

"Yes... Yes..." She smiled. "Yes! How wonderful!"

Bertie nudged Arabella to take a seat in the small dining area while they waited for Sylvia to finish. "Angelina has less theatrics, I'm not sure if I prefer this to the other one," he whispered lowly.

Arabella nodded, resisting the urge to laugh when Sylvia started dancing in a slow rocking and circular motion. What was going on?

"Oh! There is a man, a friendly man!" Sylvia suddenly opened her eyes and stared at Arabella wildly. "He's in despair because he has left a loved one! He has a broken heart."

Arabella couldn't quite bring herself to believe her. Was she trying to tell her that the ghost was breaking her eggs because of his broken heart? What was he going to break next? Her plates?

"Oh! But he means no harm, he says he will leave you in peace." Sylvia sat in the middle of the living room and lit a candle. She folded her legs and made a triangle, the soles of her feet facing each other as her hands lay open over her lap. "I shall say a prayer and see if he wants to communicate. You may remain in the apartment and do as you wish but do so quietly."

An hour later, Bertie had fallen asleep on the desk, lightly snoring as Sylvia was still "communicating." Arabella had found herself by the fridge and was rearranging the magnets to make a different communication of her own.

B-O-R-E-D

A-S

H-E-L

After several more minutes, Arabella began challenging herself to make full sentences with the alphabetical magnets. It was difficult as she only had one letter of each.

Finally giving up on the activity, the sentence on her fridge door read:

The quick brown f x j mped v r lazy d g

All the repeated letters were replaced by Disney magnets here and there. That was the only sentence she could think of that used all the letters. Thank you, Microsoft.

"NAMASTE!"

Startled, Arabella stiffened as Bertie's light snoring grew into an interrupted wheezy breath mingled with accumulated saliva in his mouth. The combination of trying to breathe and swallow gave way to snorting as he blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust to the scene.

"I have conversed with the spirit and he vowed to leave you alone." Sylvia smiled and walked up to where Arabella was situated. She observed the magnets and blinked rapidly, making a show of swooning with her arm over her forehead.

This woman gave all the real psychics a bad name.

"I am receiving a message!" She threw her hands up the air, shaking her fingers, causing a ruckus with her jewelry. "A relative of yours wishes to say hello."

Arabella stiffened and involuntarily stared at the Disneyland magnets on the fridge. No, she couldn't have known!

Sylvia brought her hands together to her chest and exhaled loudly. "Well, that's all the time we have for today..." and she proceeded towards the door, taking her bag with her.

"But..." Arabella was confused. Wasn't she about to tell her about her grandmama? Was grandma breaking the eggs?

Bertie hurriedly followed suit as Sylvia asked to be brought downstairs. Arabella went with them and they conversed for a while before she accepted the payment from Bertie.

When Sylvia was out of earshot, Bertie laid a warm hand over Arabella's shoulder.

"Thank you for your help, Bertie." Arabella had expected investigators or home service contractors to aid them with their little problem. She would never have guessed that what Bertie had in mind was a certain rainbow-dressed psychic.

"You're a good kid. I hope this solves the problem." He gave her shoulder a squeeze and walked away with Sylvia to return her back to the train station.

Arabella went up to her apartment in peace and thought that at last, the home intruder had been found, and whoever he was, at least he had vowed to finally leave her alone. Still dubious, she wagered that the only way of finding out if Sylvia was gifted was if the shenanigans in her kitchen suddenly stopped after this visit.

The door lock unhinged easily, and she opened just wide enough to observe her surroundings. Something was different, her skin was prickly, and she had the most disconcerting feeling that she was being watched.

Arabella searched silently for what exactly was amiss, carefully going around her apartment, searching for a clue. Her eyes wandered to the refrigerator, and as most of the letters now lay jumbled framing the center, the message in the middle was loud and clear:

SHE LIAR.

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A/N: We are solving the mystery of the moving kitchen things pretty quickly! What do you think? Do you think Arabella will just pick up her stuff and move away, or will she stick it through? An update is coming soon, I promise!

If you liked this chapter, kindly give it a vote. If you have any comments, please let me know! It's still very early in the book and I'm still entertaining ideas!

UPDATE: Edits were made May 4, 2020. This was submitted for round 2 of the ONC 2020! Thank you to all those who commented, voted, and read my work! Your feedback really helped me, I can't say this enough!