Grace
The door clicked shut and dusk swallowed the cabin. Grace sat huddled on the mattress in the loft, knees hugged to her chest, the cold seeping into her bones. Darkness pressed against the small window like an accusation. Every breath trembled; every exhale fogged the thin air.
“Grace?” Kaleb’s voice came from below—careful, strained. He’d been gone when she had woken up and found the mark on her skin, and the memory of that cold, red bite still skittered beneath her skin. Panic had made her stupid, made her move where she should not have. Now, hearing him return, she wanted to crawl into herself and disappear.
He descended the ladder slowly and crouched by where she sat. She could feel the faint shift in the air as he neared. His hand cupped her cheek; it was impossibly warm. The
