The night wrapped around the Wheatly farm like a dark, heavy blanket, bringing with it the cold and an unhealthy dose of anxiety that made her want to rip her own hair out of the roots. For every cricket that chirped in the dark, Jocelyn thought her heart would give out.
Adamant and refusing to sit down, Jocelyn paced back and forth at the edge of the makeshift landing zone. Her feet had ached at some point but had long since gone numb or she was so lost in her head she no longer felt the pain. Still, vaguely, she recognized that the gravel and grass under her feet added to the background noise like a soundtrack for a horror.
Her heart continued to pound like a drum. Sweat rolled down the middle of her back. She let her hands fall at her sides and shook them out to try to ease the tensio
