The room was still. The rain had slowed to a whisper against the windows, and the laptop cast a dull blue glow across Aiden's face as he sat hunched at his desk, eyes locked on the server dashboard.
He refreshed the old channel again.
Nothing.
The silence almost felt worse than Connie's games.
Still no movement. No reply. Just the empty shell of what used to be a lifeline between him and Sticks.
Aiden closed the lid with a quiet click and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The weight of the day was finally catching up to him—Rosalie's voice in the broom closet, Edward's growing recklessness, and the distant, creeping dread of the nomads.
He reached for his phone to set an alarm—and saw the notification.
1 New Message — Rosalie
He hesitated before opening it.
Are you still awake?
Yeah, he typed back. Barely. What's up?
She responded quickly this time.
Dinner. Tomorrow night. At our house.
Edward told Bella. Carlisle thinks it's a great idea to invite her to dinner.
Aiden sat up straighter.
You sure that's a good idea?
No, she wrote. But it's happening.
Another message popped up almost immediately after:
I want you there too.
Aiden stared at the screen. Four simple words. But they hit harder than they should've.
Why me?
A pause.
Because you need to see this for yourself. Because we need to trust you. And… because I do.
That last part stayed with him.
Aiden's thumb hovered over the keyboard. He didn't answer—didn't need to.
Instead, he let the screen go dark, set the phone on his nightstand, and lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, everything will shift.
And somehow, he was being asked to stand in the middle of it.