But quiet never really lasts long, does it?
I heard footsteps in the attic - quick ones, of someone clearly looking for a hiding spot - and before I could move, Max’s head appeared in the window. His eyes landed on me and widened slightly, like he’d stumbled onto something he wasn’t meant to see. For a moment, he hesitated, half-turned like he might go back inside, retreat into whatever silence he’d been chasing.
But I lifted my hand and gestured for him to join me.
He blinked, then nodded and pulled himself through the window with surprising ease. He wasn’t wearing a coat, just that oversized charcoal sweater he always wore, sleeves tugged over his hands. I shifted to the side, making room for him near the chimney, where the roof tiles were dry and slightly warmer.
He settled beside m
