The cabin sat at the end of a narrow, winding road, tucked between tall pines that reached up like fingers scraping the moonlight. It looked almost too peaceful, with its moss-covered roof and wraparound porch, like something out of an old postcard.
But peace was the last thing I felt as we pulled into the gravel driveway.
Jaxon turned off the engine and just sat there, hands on the wheel, staring out into the dark.
“You sure this place is safe?” I asked, voice softer than I meant it to be.
He nodded once. “I haven’t brought anyone here in years. Not even friends.”
I blinked. “Why not?”
He finally looked at me. “Some places… they stay quiet because they need to.”
There was something in his voice—worn, maybe a little sad—but I didn’t press.
Instead, I opened my door and stepped out.
