But when I woke—
The cave had fallen into a different kind of silence.
Not the careful, shared kind.
This one was hollow. Empty.
Like he had never been there at all.
My hand reached for him instinctively—
Nothing.
Just dirt.
My eyes snapped open.
Panic hit instantly.
I sat up too fast, scanning the cave, my heart slamming wildly against my ribs.
“Vin?”
No answer.
Only the echo of my own voice.
Then I saw it.
Blood.
Not a drop. Not a stain.
A trail—dragged, uneven, smeared into the dirt as if something had been pulled away against its will.
It led out of the cave.
And disappeared into the dark.
My stomach dropped.
“No... no, no—”
I scrambled after it, hands slipping against the dirt as I followed the dark streaks across the ground.
“Vin!”
My voice cracked.
I didn’t care.
I ran.
Barefoot.
Through brush and stone and shadow.
Calling his name again.
