ight spilling through the high windows, painting the walls with faded silver. Shadows clung on like stai

out at the unending swaying of tall grasses above the fence. The wind moved it in s

ng had

the air itself had weight, like it was pressing down on me, like it

My steps were slow, each one echoing faintly agai

. Barely there. A slow, drawn-out scrape, al

fr

ce, hard, the sound

g. The house settling. Wood expanding in the cold. But the

w. The sound came again, closer this time. Slow. S

h for it. Light would mean they'd know exactly where I was

ir sh

urrent moved across my cheek, carrying with it a smell that didn't belong in this room. Musk.

I heard it -

ds. Jus

from the

hit the bedframe. My eyes darted toward

ade darker than th

It didn't breath

, and it

't slow. I stayed there, gripping the bedpost

e silenc

he kind of silence that feels a

ning what could be there. So I edged toward the doorway, my bar

ng in from a single window at the far end. My breath fogged faint

llway. The boards whi

stairs, movement ri

fr

nnaturally before peeling away from

ri

His face was unreadable, his expression flat, but h

My voice felt locked somew

slow and steady, like th

pped

ed forwa

ents unhurried, deliberate. The sound of my own

I could see the faint scar along his jawli

t be here, Se

something I couldn't read. Not an

- once, twice - then the hall fell into dar

it - the scrape of a boot on wood

linked back on, t

as g

ought with him stil

nutes, not moving, afraid that if I

slid along the banister, the wood cold under my pa

at untouched. The fire had burned low, jus

ew I was

told me he was still here - some

, like the house itself

ch shadow, but nothing moved. My gaze lan

een shut

dn't r

t of me wanted to turn away. The metal ha

ull

rwell. The smell that rose up from the dark

ted up from

ath

ng hard enough to hurt. The breathing gr

followed was wors

orian's voice again, this

e lookin