"You want the truth?" My voice drops, loses its official edge. "The truth is that everything about this place is more complicated than you understand. The truth is that some secrets exist because the alternative is worse."
"Try me."
I stand, moves around the desk. The space feels charged, like the air before a storm.
"The truth is that you walked into something the first day you arrived. Something that changed…" I stop. My hands clench at my sides so tightly I can feel my fingernails digging into my palms. "Something that makes keeping you safe more important than keeping you informed."
"What changed?"
"I…" The word hangs between us. I close my eyes briefly, and when they open, I’ve managed to put the shutters back in place. "I can't tell you that."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
“So you’d rather I keep walking blind?” She asks.
“I’d rather you stay alive.”
“Those aren’t opposites.”
I look at her. I want to argue. I’m also afraid to.
The betrayal hits her like cold water. "You were about to tell me. Just now. I could see it."
"Ellie…"
His radio crackles to life, sharp and urgent. A voice cuts through the tension like a blade.
"All units, Code Seven. Forest perimeter, sector four. Immediate response required."
My entire demeanor transforms. The man who was arguing with Ellie disappears, replaced by someone harder, more dangerous. I reach for my radio without taking my eyes off her.
"Hart responding. ETA three minutes."
"Copy that, Sheriff. Pack…" The voice catches itself. "Personnel are en route."
I’m already moving, grabbing my jacket and keys. The careful conversation we were having evaporates like it never existed.
"Stay here." The command carries absolute authority. "Lock the doors. Don't leave until I get back."
"Caleb, what's…"
But I’m gone, the door slamming behind me with enough force to rattle the windows.
The sheriff’soffice sits dark.
Too dark.
I told her to wait here. I told her I’d be back. And now I’m tearing down Route 9 with my lights on and my jaw locked, knowing exactly what kind of silence I’ve left behind.
The radio crackles at my shoulder—overlapping voices, clipped urgency.
“Code Seven.”
My grip tightens on the wheel. I don’t need the definition. I know what it meanshere.
The mill looms at Moonhaven’s edge, where the road gives up and the forest takes over. By the time I pull in, three cruisers are already positioned, angled like teeth. No sirens. No chaos. Just readiness.