The car door closes with a solid thunk, swallowed by the night.
I stand still for a moment, letting the cool air wash over me—the faint sweetness of white roses tangled with the sharper scent of dew settling on the grass. The moon hangs low and full above the house, its light caught and softened by the warm glow of the garden lamps lining the driveway, turning the white gravel into a river of pale gold.
Silas steps out of the car behind me.
I don't look at him. I don't need to. I can feel him there—two steps back, just off to the side. Close enough to follow. Far enough to pretend he isn't there.
I walk.
My shoes strike the marble of the entrance. Each step echoes—sharp, deliberate, a warning shot fired into the silence.
The door unlocks with a soft click. I push it open. The house exhales. Inside, everything is polished. Everything gleams. Dim golden light settles over it all.
Silas's footsteps whisper behind mine—soft, careful.Too quiet. Like he's trying not to exist.
