Kelvin’s POV
The woods had always been my sanctuary.
A place where time melted.
Where thoughts drifted like leaves and worries seeped into the soil.
Here, I could listen to birdsong instead of hallway gossip.
To wind instead of whispers.
I leaned back against the bark of a broad elm, rough and cool against my spine. The earthy scent of moss and damp leaves filled my lungs. Above, the canopy stirred, branches whispering secrets in a language only silence understood.
A bird chirped nearby, sharp, melodic, then gone.
I let my eyes fall half-closed.
Until.
A dry twig cracked, sharp as a gunshot in the quiet.
My eyes flew open.
Another rustle, fast, uneven, too heavy for an animal.
I shifted, my body tensing, senses sharpening. I scanned the trees through slits of green and shadow
