Something shifts to her right, fast and close.
She turns.
And for a split second, she sees him.
I see it in her reaction, the way her body locks, the sharp inhale that tears out of her, the way her eyes go wide.
“Oh my God?—”
I’m moving before she finishes, closing the distance in two strides, grabbing her and pulling her back against me as I turn, placing myself between her and the trees.
“Inside,” I say, my voice low and controlled.
“Ethan, he?—”
“I know.”
I back us up slowly, step by step, my eyes locked on the darkness where he disappeared. He’s gone now, slipped back into the trees like he was never there.
But he was.
And she saw him.
Her hands grip my arms, tight enough to hurt, her breath coming fast against my chest.
“Did you see him?” she asks, her voice breaking. “Did you?—”
“Yeah.”
That is all it takes.
The composure she’s been holding onto cracks completely.
Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer like she needs something real to hold onto.
“He was right there,” she says, the words rushing out. “Ethan, he was right there?—”
“I know,” I repeat, firmer this time.
I guide her back toward the cabin, keeping the pace steady, controlled. Panic makes mistakes. I will not let her make one.
Her body stays close to mine now, not resisting, not pulling away. If anything, she leans into me harder, her shoulder pressed against my chest, her grip tightening every time something shifts in the dark.
“Don’t let him—” she starts.
“I won’t.” The words come out without hesitation.
We reach the cabin, and I get her inside, shutting the door hard behind us and locking it before I turn back to her.
Her chest rises and falls quickly, her eyes wide, her hands still gripping my shirt.
“He was watching me,” she says, quieter now. “Not just… around me. Me.”
I steady her without thinking, my hand settling at her waist.
“I know.”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “This isn’t random.”
