The house felt too large for her—its silence stretching, oppressive and loud, as though the walls themselves were closing in while offering nowhere to hide.
Amelia crouched in the narrow gap beside the pantry, knees drawn tight to her chest, the cold tile biting into her bare feet. The knife trembled in her hand, slick with sweat, its edge catching the faintest light with every jump of her pulse. She didn’t remember grabbing it—only the sharp, immediate need to put something between herself and whatever came next.
Her breath rasped loud in her ears.
She tried to slow it. Tried to count. In, out. In, out.
It didn’t work—panic ignored rhythm, clawing deeper no matter how hard she tried to control it.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again—red eyes burning out of a distorted fa
