hosts. I don't "feel the energ

thing wa

exted back i

than ten minutes without checking her phone since the funeral. Sil

nd with no impulse control and a caffeine ad

it to me after Reyna locked herself out three winters ago. I kept i

Cold. Her coat was

tchen table, was a s

Reyn

with ink and pencil. Symbols. Notes. A tree

ll

rd that makes

phone and checked the tracker app. Yeah, yeah, I know - privacy. But Reyna gave me permission m

forest. Old trailhead. No streetlight

to get answers no o

g knife from the kitchen drawer,

ent aft

-

colder than the

skin on the back of your neck crawl. The kind that made you walk

owls. Just the sound of my boots on dead leaves

ed her

ic

ans

w loud my own br

ed that Calen was gone and that Reyna was unraveling, and that no one - not even the cops - seemed to care enough to ask why

it someth

oked

sh

yn

like someone set it on fire and t

. The material was warm. No

er in the woods. Not l

od sl

I calle

ans

ht higher. My hand

r Witch. This is not Evil Dead. You are just being a responsible, ove

e trees to my left. N

toward it

hift. The air felt thick, like I was

ightened aro

's when

the notebook. But this wasn't ink. This was scorched into t

the he

out. Didn't touch it, just

out of tune. And beneath that, a whisper. Not words. Jus

ed bac

n I hea

ez

ar off. Fain

ed. "R

th

o the symbol -

l. No scorching. No spir

k two steps, h

're hallucinatin

one b

nd almost

new

m R

ome any

ter, the message

it was ne

went i

Reyna's voic

n't her

one else wear

didn't wa

o

, aimed the flashlight down