Evelyn's house felt too quiet after the long day. The walk back from the forest office had left her drained, the ranger's words about citations and unusual blue eyes still circling in her mind. She turned on every light downstairs, made tea she barely drank, and tried to lose herself in the low murmur of the television. Jane stayed over without being asked twice, dragging her blanket to the couch and declaring the spare room too far away if Evelyn had another nightmare.
They ordered takeout, picked at noodles, and talked about safe, ordinary things—Jane's latest disastrous date, a paper Evelyn needed to finish—until the conversation faded into comfortable silence. Around midnight Jane crashed on the couch, phone still in hand. Evelyn climbed the stairs alone, left the bedside lamp on its lowest setting, and slipped under the covers. The bracelet on her wrist felt warmer than usual. She rubbed it once, then let exhaustion pull her under.
The first time, it was only a nightmare.
She stood in the forest again, trees pressing too close, air thick with the sweet-rot smell of Raven Bud. A shape moved at the edge of her vision—tall, wrapped in shadow that shifted like smoke. It watched her without moving closer, but the watching pressed against her skin, heavy and intimate. Fingers that weren't there brushed her arm, trailed along her throat, slid lower with deliberate slowness. The bracelet warmed against her wrist, then grew hot enough to jolt her. She curled around it in the dream, shoving back at the blurry form until it fractured and retreated.
She woke with a gasp, heart hammering, sheets twisted around her legs. The room was empty. The lamp still glowed softly. Downstairs, Jane's soft snoring drifted up. Evelyn sat up, rubbing her wrist where the bracelet had left a faint red mark. The heat faded quickly. Just stress, she told herself. The plant, the guilt, the ranger's warning. Nothing more. She lay back down and sleep claimed her again.
The second time, it was not a dream.
She woke to the feeling again, Her eyes snapped open. The bedside lamp was still on, but the shadows in the room felt wrong, darker in the corners, thicker near the door. A figure stood just inside the threshold, tall and indistinct, the same blurred shape from the nightmare now made solid. It didn't move at first. Then it took one slow step toward the bed.
Evelyn's breath caught. This wasn't sleep. The floorboards creaked under real weight. The air carried the faint cloying sweetness she remembered from the forest. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound came out choked.
The figure leaned closer. A hand—real, cold—brushed her shoulder.
She screamed.
The sound tore through the house. Footsteps pounded up the stairs almost instantly. Jane burst into the room, hair wild, eyes wide with panic.
"Evelyn—what the hell—"
Jane's gaze snapped to the figure. For a split second everything froze. Then the intruder turned and bolted toward the hallway.
"Stay here!" Jane shouted, already running after him.
Evelyn scrambled out of bed, legs shaking, and followed as far as the doorway. She heard Jane's footsteps thundering down the hall, a crash, then Jane's voice yelling, "Get out! I'm calling the police!"
Glass shattered. Evelyn reached the hallway just as Jane skidded to a stop near the broken window. Shards littered the floor, glittering under the overhead light. A smear of blood stained one jagged edge of the frame, dark and fresh.
Jane had her phone pressed to her ear, breathing hard. "Yes, someone broke in, there was a man in her room. He just went out the hallway window. There's blood on the glass. Hurry."
She hung up and spun toward Evelyn, grabbing her shoulders. "You okay? Did he touch you?"
Evelyn could only shake her head, teeth chattering. The touch on her shoulder had felt too real. The shadow in the room had been real. This wasn't Raven Bud residue or a nightmare bleeding over. Someone had been inside her house. Inside her bedroom touching her. the thought made her skin crawl.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Jane steered Evelyn downstairs, away from the broken glass, and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. The police arrived within minutes—two officers, one older with a calm face, the other younger and alert. They swept the house first, checking rooms and closets, then came back to the living room where Evelyn sat on the couch, still trembling.
The older officer took the lead. "Tell us what happened, from the beginning."
Evelyn's voice came out shaky. She described the nightmare that hadn't felt like one the second time, waking to the figure in her room, the hand on her shoulder.
The younger officer examined the hallway window, taking photos and carefully collecting a swab of the blood from the glass. "We'll send this for sampling," he said. "DNA, fingerprints if we're lucky."
The older officer nodded, jotting notes. "Any idea who it might have been? Someone you know? Ex? Disgruntled student?"
Evelyn shook her head again, harder this time. "No. I don't… I've never seen anyone like that. It was dark. He was just… there."
Jane squeezed her hand.
The officers exchanged a glance. "We'll check the perimeter, look for footprints. In the meantime, keep the doors locked, maybe stay with a friend or get the window boarded tonight. We'll file the report and follow up once we have the blood results."
They left after another sweep of the property, promising to patrol the area for the rest of the night. The house felt colder once the blue lights faded. Jane refused to let Evelyn sleep alone. She dragged her blanket upstairs, settled into the armchair beside the bed, and left every light in the room burning.
Evelyn lay under the covers, still shaking. The bracelet on her wrist had gone cool again, but the memory of the hand on her shoulder lingered like a bruise. It might not have been a dream after all. Someone had been in her room. Someone had watched her sleep, touched her, and fled when interrupted.
Outside, beyond the garden fence, the large dark shape that had been pacing the perimeter earlier had stopped. It stood motionless beneath the tree for a long moment, deep unsettling eyes fixed on the brightly lit windows where voices and movement now filled the rooms. Then, with a low, frustrated sound that no one inside could hear, the wolf turned and melted back into the darkness.
Jane stayed awake, phone in hand, glancing toward the broken window every few minutes. "We're changing the locks tomorrow," she muttered. "And you're not staying here alone until they catch whoever that was."
Evelyn nodded weakly, eyes fixed on the ceiling.