“You’re not the only one who’s ever been scared, Fiona.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not scared. I’m… tired.”
That hits harder.
“Whatever’s going on,” I say, “we’ll figure it out. You’re safe now.”
She shifts, facing me fully. “You don’t even know me. Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.”
Her jaw clenches. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Doesn’t matter.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re seriously telling me you’d stick your neck out for someone who could be lying to you?”
I don’t blink. “Yes.”
“Why?”
I meet her stare head-on. “Because I trust my instincts. And they say you’re not the enemy.”
Her breath catches. Then she leans back, arms crossed, like she’s trying to shield herself from the weight of my belief.
“I hope you’re right,” she says. “For both our sakes.”
“Besides you’re Gavin’s sister,” I say to lighten the mood.
She laughs lightly, opening the pack of Oreos.
I don’t say anything after that. I just sit here, watching her. And hoping like hell whoever hurt her stays gone.
Because if they come back?
I’ll burn the world down before I let them touch her again.
FIVE
FIONA
The nightmare is loud. Not in the way nightmares usually are—with screaming and fire and obvious monsters—but in the way silence is loud when you’re waiting for a door to open.
I’m back in my apartment. The one with the bad plumbing and the window that never quite locked. The lights are off. My phone is dead. I’m standing in the hallway, barefoot, holding my breath like if I don’t make a sound the world won’t remember I exist.
Then I hear it. Footsteps. Slow. Unhurried. Like whoever’s coming already knows they have time. I try to move. I can’t. My feet are glued to the carpet. My chest feels wrapped in duct tape. The footsteps stop on the other side of my bedroom door.
A hand touches the knob.
And then— I jerk awake with a gasp, heart slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
The cabin is dark except for the low orange glow of embers in the fireplace down the hall. For a second, I don’t know where I am. My skin is slick with sweat. My throat burns.
I listen.
No footsteps.
No voices.