Chapter 35: The Man by the Gate
The next two days passed in a strange, suspended quiet.
Brent kept the letter tucked in the drawer beside his bed, but Emery could feel it in the air — the way he checked the windows more often, the way he paused before stepping outside, the way his shoulders stayed just a little too tight.
He wasn’t scared.He was preparing.
And Emery understood that kind of preparation all too well.
On the third morning, the sky was bright and clear, the kind of crisp winter sunlight that made the frost sparkle on the grass. Emery was on the porch sweeping when she saw it — a dark truck idling at the end of the driveway, just beyond the gate.
Her breath caught.
Not the mail truck.Not a neighbor.Not anyone she recognized.
The engine rumbled low, steady, waiting.
“Br
