BROOKS:
I could still feel Hattie trembling against me, her entire body quaking with the aftershocks of our encounter with her father. The shadows of the clearing were closing in, thick with tension. The bonfire behind us crackled and popped, sending orange sparks dancing into the star-speckled night. Music and laughter from the ongoing celebration drifted through the trees, but that warmth and excitement felt a lifetime away.
She stood there, tears in her eyes, still trying to compose herself. I reached out, my hand brushing gently against her cheek. “It’s over,” I murmured. “He’s gone.”
Hattie gave me a small, tight nod. Then, as if on cue, the figure of Sawyer lurched back into view from between two large oaks. He must have lingered in the darkness. My chest clenched at the sight of
