“It doesn't matter,” Jeremiah said. "By the time anyone thinks to check Dylan's ex-boyfriend's abandoned hunting cabin in the middle of Whitmore Forest, the hunt will be over.”
We kept heading northeast, leaving Blackthorne Harbor in the distance. The roads grew narrower, and trees closed in on either side, their branches forming a canopy overhead that filtered the afternoon sun into dappled shadows.
Dylan navigated from the passenger seat, occasionally telling Cherry to turn left or right onto increasingly rough roads.
“It's been a while,” he muttered, squinting at the landscape. “But I'm pretty sure... yeah, turn here.”
Cherry turned onto what could barely be called a road. More like two tire tracks with grass growing between them.
“Are you sure about this?” Cherry asked, gripping the wheel tightly as the van bumped and jostled over potholes and roots.
“Positive,” Dylan said. “It's just a little farther.”
The driveway seemed to go on forever, winding through dense forest, but finally, it opened up into a small clearing.
The cabin sat at the end of the driveway. Dylan’s description of the place as ‘rustic’ was actually quite generous.
It was a small, weathered structure that looked like it hadn't been maintained in years. The wood siding was faded and warped, the roof was covered in moss and fallen leaves, and the front porch sagged slightly to one side.
But it was completely, utterly isolated. Surrounded by dense forest on all sides, the nearest road miles away. If you didn't know it was here, you'd never find it.
“This is perfect,” I said, lips curving into a small smile. I glanced at the time on my new burner phone. “It’s almost five now. So we just need to survive the next twenty-one hours.”
“Out here, that’s easily doable,” Dylan said, returning my smile with a wide grin. “Those hunters could search forweeksand still never find you.”
Jeremiah slung an arm around my shoulder. “See? I told you we'd keep you safe,” he said. "Nothing's going to happen to you out here. And before you know it, the hunt will be over.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to let myself feel the safety that this isolated cabin promised. But as I stared at the darkening forest surrounding us, I couldn't shake the image of Julian standing on that street corner. The way he'd looked at me through his mask. The absolute certainty in his posture.
He'd definitely known it was me. Had seen straight through Cherry's careful disguise like it was nothing. And if he could do that...
I pushed the thought away and forced my smile wider. “You're right,” I said. “He can’t find us here. No one can.”
Behind me, the forest whispered in the wind, and somewhere out there, I knew Julian Valcourt was still hunting.
But for now, we were safe.
We had to be.
23
Violet
By nine o'clock,I'd almost forgotten we were hiding.
We'd spread out across the cabin's main room, flashlights casting warm pools of light that pushed back the darkness, turning the old building into a fragile little world of our own.
Dylan and Jeremiah had claimed the sagging couch, a bag of chips between them. Ginny sat cross-legged on the floor near the cold fireplace, while Cherry occupied one of the mismatched chairs at the table. I'd settled on a pile of cushions we'd pulled from the bedroom, and it was surprisingly comfortable despite the musty smell.
The s'mores had been a bust, because we’d decided we couldn't risk lighting a fire, but we'd made do with the sandwiches and snacks, passing bags back and forth while trading stories.
“Remember that summer camp counselor who was convinced the lake was haunted?” Dylan said, gesturing with a granola bar. “What was his name? Todd?”
“Trevor,” Cherry corrected. “And he wasn't wrong to be scared. We put that fake hand in the water during his midnight swim, remember?”
Their laughter filled the cabin, and I found myself smiling. Really smiling, not the forced expression I'd been wearing since I saw my name on the List.
I checked my burner phone. 9:03 PM. Seven hours since it went up. Seven hours of the hunt completed. Only seventeen more to go.
