The night was too quiet.
I sat by the window, my knees pulled up to my chest, eyes fixed on the tree line. The fire had burned down to embers, their glow faint and fading, but I didn’t dare let myself sleep. Not again. Not when the silence pressed so heavy it felt like a scream waiting to break.
Adrian stirred on the couch behind me, his breaths ragged, uneven. Every rise and fall of his chest felt like a fragile promise—that he was still alive, still here with me.
Then it came.
Three knocks.
Slow. Deliberate. Each one rattling through the cabin like a warning bell.
My whole body went cold.
I turned, meeting Adrian’s eyes. He was already awake, already pushing himself up despite the pain that twisted his features.
“Stay back,” he whispered.
But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
