After the argument, Cole went outside to check the perimeter.
The door closed behind him with a quiet thud, and the silence that followed felt heavy enough to crush me.
For the first time since we’d arrived, the cabin didn’t feel safe.
It felt small. Watchful. Like it was listening.
I paced for a while, my arms wrapped tight around myself. Every sound made me jump—the groan of old wood, the wind brushing the windows, the low hum of the fridge. It wasn’t just the noise that unnerved me. It was the stillness underneath it. The kind that waits.
I sank onto the couch, staring at the bowl of soup I’d never finished. The surface had gone dull and gray. My stomach felt weird by just looking at it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about my father. His voice. His face on that screen before everything
