EMMA
The estate was different at night.
During the day it felt chaotic in a warm, lived-in way—bikers stomping around with heavy boots, Clara singing as she sorted laundry, engines rumbling in the distance. But after dark, the air shifted. The halls grew quieter. The laughter dimmed. Even the snow outside seemed to fall more cautiously, like it knew something I didn’t.
Tonight, that strange tension pressed against my skin like static.
I was walking back from the storage shed, carrying rolls of leftover garlands, when I heard whispers drifting from the side of the estate. Low voices. Male voices. Urgent.
I paused near the corner of the building.
Three Lune Noire bikers stood beneath the dim yellow glow of the back lantern. I recognized them—Tomas, Jax, and Levi. Always together, alway
