I scanned the road behind her.
Shadows. Nothing else. But my gut didn’t calm.
“Walk with me?” I asked.
Her lips parted in surprise. “You… want to walk me home?”
“I want to make sure you get home safe.”
She exhaled slowly. “Okay.”
We fell into step side by side, quiet except for the crunch of gravel under our boots.
“That break-in Riley mentioned,” Nora said softly. “Do you think it’s connected?”
I looked at her sharply. “You heard about that?”
She shrugged. “Agnes told the cashier at the donut shop, who told my friend Marcy, who told her kid, who told all the kindergarteners, who told me.”
“Small towns,” I muttered.
“Small towns,” she echoed.
We walked until we reached her driveway. Porch lights glowed warm and inviting.
She turned to me. “Thank you. For walking me home.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.” Her voice softened. “You make me feel… safe.”
Something in my chest cracked open.
I stepped closer, brushing my fingers lightly along her elbow. “You are safe. As long as I’m here.”
Her breath hitched.
Then she whispered, “Wolf?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to check on me tomorrow?”
My heart thudded. “Probably gonna check on you every day.”
She smiled — small, shy, but bright enough to level me.
“Goodnight, Wyatt.”
“Goodnight, Nora.”
I waited until she was inside. Locked the door. Turned on a lamp.
Then I walked back into the deepening dusk…
And saw a set of footprints in the mud near her yard.
Fresh ones.
