Something moved.
Not outside me.
Inside.
Small.
Faint.
Impossible.
I stood at the edge of the forest with rain sliding down my face and my hand pressed against my chest, afraid to breathe too deeply.
Afraid that if I moved...
If I blinked...
If I hoped too much...
Whatever I had felt would disappear and leave me with nothing but silence again.
For a long moment, there was only the storm.
Rain whispering through the leaves.
Wind threading its way between the branches.
The distant groan of ancient trees bending beneath the weather.
Then—
There.
Another pulse.
Softer than a heartbeat.
Quieter than a whisper.
But real.
My knees weakened.
I caught myself against the nearest tree, rough bark biting into my palm.
"You're there," I whispered.
The words trembled.
No answer
