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"You found the same thing I did."

"What?"

He pulls his tablet from his bag. Opens his own files. Incident reports. Environmental disturbances. Missing persons. The same pattern. Different sources. Different methods. Same conclusion.

The two maps overlap perfectly. The center point is my cottage.

I whisper, "Why here?"

Rhett doesn't answer immediately. Because there isn't a good answer.

Finally, he says, "Because whatever this is..."

His eyes lift to mine.

"...it isn't searching anymore."

A cold silence fills the room.

"What is it doing?"

His expression hardens.

"Coming closer."

Behind us, the lights flicker. Once. Twice. Sayer appears in the doorway.

"I felt it again."

None of us move.

"What did you feel?"

"Like the house is holding its breath."

I realize something.

The entity isn't trying to scare us away. It's waiting for us to understand. Because maybe it doesn't want us to stop searching. Maybe it wants us to find the truth.

And maybe the truth is the thing we should be afraid of.

12

RHETT

OCTOBER 22 ~ 9 DAYS UNTIL HALLOWEEN

The problem with patterns is that once you see them, you can't unsee them.

Carys's map is spread across the dining room table beside mine. Two different investigations. Two different approaches. One conclusion.

The disappearances aren't random. They never were.

The locations marked across Sleepy Hollow and the surrounding towns form a tightening circle. Not around the town. Around this house. Around Carys. Around Sayer.

My wolf paces beneath the surface of my skin. Not afraid. Alert. There is a difference.

Fear makes people reckless. Instinct makes them careful.