Chapter 33-Sadie
1116 Words
The drive back felt quieter.
Not because Maddie stopped talking.
Because I wasn’t really hearing her anymore.
Her voice filled the space between us, steady and familiar, but it didn’t stick. The words came and went, sliding past me like I wasn’t fully there to catch them. My attention stayed somewhere else, somewhere just out of reach, like I was waiting for something I couldn’t name.
The earlier part of the day sat in my chest in a way I couldn’t explain. The normalcy of it. The way I had almost relaxed. The way Rhett’s messages had pulled something lighter out of me without trying.
It didn’t match now.
Not with the way the road felt as we turned off toward the cabin.
The trees closed in again, the sunlight cutting through them in uneven strips, shadows stretching across the road in a way that made everything feel tighter. Smaller. Like the space around us was closing without actually moving.
I found myself sitting up straighter without realizing it, my eyes moving ahead of us, scanning the driveway before we even reached it.
Watching.
Waiting.
For something.
When the cabin finally came into view, something in my chest tightened before I could stop it.
Nothing looked different.
That was the first thing.
The same as it always did.
Quiet.
Still.
Unchanged.
But that didn’t settle anything.
If anything, it made it worse.
Maddie slowed the truck, the tires crunching softly over gravel as we pulled in. The engine idled for a second before she shut it off, the sudden quiet pressing in around us.
Neither of us moved right away.
I didn’t know why.
Maybe I did.
“Sadie,” Maddie said, softer now.
I blinked, realizing I had been staring at the house.
“Yeah.”
“You good?”
The question felt heavier this time.
More real.
I nodded anyway. “Yeah.”
It didn’t sound convincing.
I knew it.
She knew it.
But she didn’t push.
Not yet.
I reached for the door handle, my fingers tightening slightly around it before I pushed it open. The air outside hit me immediately, cooler than it should have been, sharper against my skin.
I stepped out.
The quiet wrapped around me again.
Different than town.
Different than before.
The gravel crunched under my boots as I walked toward the porch, each step feeling louder than it should have. I could hear Maddie behind me, close enough that I didn’t have to turn to know she was there.
I stepped up onto the porch, the wood creaking softly under my weight.
My hand lifted toward the door.
And stopped.
Something felt wrong.
Not obvious.
Not something I could point to.
Just—
off.
The kind of feeling that sat low in your chest and didn’t move, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.
“You gonna open it?” Maddie asked behind me.
Her voice was light.
But there was something under it now.
I nodded, even though the feeling hadn’t gone away.
“Yeah.”
The key slid into the lock easier than it should have.
Too smooth.
Too familiar.
I turned it.
The click echoed louder than it should have in the quiet.
I pushed the door open slowly.
The cabin looked the same.
At first.
Nothing broken.
Nothing missing.
Everything exactly where it should be.
I stepped inside anyway, slower this time, my eyes moving across the room, catching on everything without really focusing on anything.
The couch.
The table.
The counter.
The window.
Everything looked right.
But it didn’t feel right.
Maddie stepped in behind me, the door closing softly.
“What?” she asked.
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know how to explain it yet.
I took another step in, my gaze moving again, slower this time, more deliberate.
That’s when I saw it.
The chair.
Near the window.
I stopped.
Completely.
It was turned.
Not by much.
Just enough.
But I knew where it had been.
I always left it facing the door.
I always made sure of it.
Now it angled toward the window.
My chest tightened.
A slow, heavy pull that made it harder to breathe.
“Sadie,” Maddie said, sharper this time. “What?”
“I didn’t leave that like that.”
The words came out steady.
Even though nothing else felt that way.
She looked at the chair, then back at me, her brow pulling slightly.
“Okay… that’s weird,” she said.
But her voice had changed.
She felt it too now.
Not fully.
But enough.
The room felt smaller.
Tighter.
Like the air had thickened without warning.
I moved further in, slower than before, my eyes catching on everything again. The edges of things. The spaces between them.
Looking for something I couldn’t see yet.
Then I found it.
Near the door.
On the floor.
A faint smear of dirt.
Barely noticeable.
But it hadn’t been there before.
I knew it hadn’t.
Too fresh.
Too out of place.
My stomach dropped.
I stared at it for a second longer than I should have, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides.
Everything in me went still.
I didn’t need more.
I already knew.
“Sadie,” Maddie said again, quieter now. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed, forcing my voice to work. “Someone was here.”
Her head turned toward me immediately. “What?”
“I didn’t leave this like this,” I said, gesturing slightly. “The chair… the floor… I—” I stopped, shaking my head. “Something’s not right.”
She didn’t brush it off.
Didn’t tell me I was overthinking.
Her expression shifted into something more serious.
More alert.
“Okay,” she said, her voice controlled now. “Then we’re not staying here.”
I nodded.
Because I didn’t want to stay either.
We stepped back outside together, the air hitting me harder this time, colder, sharper.
But it didn’t help.
It didn’t make it better.
If anything—
it made everything feel more exposed.
My eyes moved automatically, scanning the tree line, the driveway, the space around the cabin.
Looking.
Even though I didn’t want to see anything.
Nothing moved.
Nothing stood out.
That didn’t mean anything.
“Sadie,” Maddie said, turning toward me now. “Who are you worried about?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
Because she didn’t ask if.
She asked who.
I hesitated.
Just for a second.
My chest tightening.
Then I shook my head.
“I don’t know,” I said.
It wasn’t the truth.
But it wasn’t a full lie either.
She didn’t look convinced.
But she didn’t push.
Not yet.
- Writer
