Chapter Twenty-two
1341 Words
The rain started falling unexpectedly, its large droplets hitting the dusty windows and blurring the gray sky outside. Alison stood close to the window, her arms crossed, watching the rain. It reminded her of home.
Inside the house, the silence felt heavier with the sound of the rain—each drop constantly reminding her of a feeling of stuckness.
Nicholas sat by the kitchen table entirely focused on what he was doing. The table was in a mess of maps, files, and ruffled notes. His coffee was cold, left untouched since he poured it. His sharp eyes scanned all the documents, his expression as that of a stone.
Alison wondered how anyone could stay so still for so long , getting more annoyed as she watched him longer.
She snapped. "You staring at those papers all day won’t magically solve anything.”
She knew she was being annoying but that was the only way to grab his attention.
Nicholas didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look up. “And pacing by the window won’t change anything either.”
She clenched her fists. “At least I’m the one pretending to be in control when I clearly have no idea what’s going on.”
That caught his attention.
He lifted his face slowly, his gaze sharp and intimidating. “I know what’s going on.”
Do you? she almost replied. But she kept quiet and left to her room.
---
Later that night…
Alison was still awake, unable to fall asleep. She could still hear the sound of crickets and the soft whisper of the wind. She tossed and turned in her bed, her thoughts in an internal chaos.
Surrendering to her restlessness, she made her way to the kitchen, expecting it to be empty. Surprisingly to her, Nicholas was still there, bent over the same papers, the dim light casting deep shadows under his eyes.
"Do you ever sleep at all?" she asked softly."Not when there’s work to do." His voice sounded far from fatigue.
She leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed. “You think too much.”
"And you think too little."
A dry laugh escaped her lips. “Maybe. But at least I don’t look like a zombie.”
For a brief moment, his lips twitched—almost a smile, but it vanished quickly.
She walked over filled with curiosity.
Maps were spread across the table, with circles and lines connecting various points. Names were hastily scribbled in the margins. One name caught her attention.
"Luke."
Nicholas’s jaw clenched.
"You don’t really think he’s missing, do you?" she asked quietly.
He hesitated before answering. His fingers traced a line on the map, pausing at a small red ‘X.’ "People don’t just disappear without a trace," he said softly. “Not unless they want to.”
Alison took a seat across from him. “ Do you think he betrayed you?”
Nicholas’s gaze locked onto hers, dark and impenetrable. “I believe he made a choice.”
A silence fell between them, but it felt less tense than before—more like a shared understanding.
"What kind of choice?" she whispered.
Nicholas remained silent. Instead, he abruptly stood up, gathering the papers into a messy pile. His expression was closed off again, emotions hidden like something subtle he refused to reveal.
"I'm leaving soon," he said.
Alison’s heart raced. “To where?” She couldn't imagine staying alone. With him, the living was already unbearable; she wondered how it was going to be without him. Where could he possibly be going?
As expected, he didn't answer her question.
But as she walked back to her room, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Nicholas was holding back something important.
And whatever it was—she was sure it wasn't just about Luke.
---
The morning dawned under the gray heavy sky, the air heavy with the smell of fresh rain. Alison woke up to the soft sounds of movement—papers shifting, footsteps walking quietly.
In the kitchen, she found Nicholas already dressed, a small duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but this time there was something different —an urgency that lay beneath his calm demeanor.
She thought he was joking last night.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her voice still sleepy.
"Out."
"Out?" She frowned. "That’s not really an answer."
He continued packing without looking up. “I need to check something. It’s better if you stay here.”
"Better?" Alison scoffed. “Since when do you care?”
Nicholas hesitated a bit, his jaw clenched. Then he turned to face her completely. "There are some things I need to take care of. I’ll be back soon."
"How soon?" she pressed.
"I don’t know."
That wasn’t the answer she was hoping for.
"You are leaving me here alone?" she challenged.
"You’re not helpless, Alison." His tone was flat, but she guessed there was something deeper to it —was it… trust? Or just indifference? She couldn’t quite tell. "Stay inside. Don’t open the door for anyone. Especially don’t do anything foolish."
"Wow. Such heartfelt advice." She touched her dramatically.
He didn’t reply. He gave her one last look—sharp and lingering, he looked like he wanted to say more but thought better against it—then he was gone.
The door closed behind him, leaving an echo that seemed louder than the silence that followed.
The First Day Alone
The house really felt quite different without Nicholas. It was quiet as usual, but not in any way comforting.
Alison paced back and forth in the house. She was never good at staying still, not especially when her mind was racing. She wondered what Nicholas was checking on and why he hadn’t shared the details with her. She knows or, more likely, doesn't expect him to share the details,s, but at least he could say something without leaving her in the dark when it was her life at stake.
By afternoon, she grew impatient. She started scanning through the files Nicholas had left behind, searching for anything that looked like answers to her., She saw maps, notes, and circled names, but none of it made sense to her. Something caught her attention: it was a photo tucked between the papers. It was a blurry image of a man she couldn't recognize, surrounded by red ink.
She wondered who he was.
Later as night fell, Alison found herself hearing small noises she couldn't quite understand.
It’s nothing. Maybe it was an insect or the wind, she tried reassuring herself.
But then she heard it.
This time, a faint knock.
She heard the knock again, louder this time.
Her heart raced as she grabbed the small knife Nicholas left on the kitchen counter. It was the poor substitute she had in his absence. She wasn't exactly sure what to do with it but at least it was something.
"Who’s there?" she called out, her voice a lot calmer than how she really felt.
Silence.
That's what all she heard
She moved closer to the door, her fingers tightening around the handle of the knife.
Another knock. This time, slower.
She pressed her back against the wall, breathing quietly. What would Nicholas do if it was him? she wondered.
Probably not panic. Probably not stand here debating.
Think, Alison. Think.
She crept to the window, peeking through the narrow gap in the curtain but she saw no one there. There was no one, just the darkness of the night.
She could already hear the sound of her heartbeat. It was louder than the silence.
She didn’t open the door.
---
The Second Day
Nicholas still wasn’t back. No message. No sign.
Alison kept replaying the knocks earlier in her head, wondering whether it was real—or just her imagination even though deep down she knew it was real.
Someone had been out there.
She didn’t know if Nicholas was walking into danger when she had a feeling danger had already found her.
- Writer
