Chapter 1 – The Silent Ones
There was no music in the car.
No radio. No words.
Just the steady hum of the engine and the soft patter of rain on the windshield.
A heavy silence—almost respected.
Leo stared at the scenery sliding slowly past the window.
Everything felt blurry. Not because of the speed—no.
Because of the emptiness he felt.
That strange in-between state, between two places, between two lives.
His parents were speaking quietly in the front seats, sometimes in English, more often in French, not really caring whether he was listening.
Technical terms, protocols, deadlines.
A confidential project, a private lab, and a custom-built house in a remote town up north in the U.S.
Crescent Hill.
He hadn't even heard the name two weeks ago.
Everything had happened so fast.
The school. The departure. The goodbyes.
No real ceremony, no big tears. Just awkward smiles, handshakes, a few unread messages.
And Camille, who'd said "we'll stay in touch", but hadn't replied to his last text.
Maybe she'd been right.
They weren't really together anyway. It was… vague.
But there had been something.
The way she looked at him when he isolated himself in the schoolyard, headphones on.
The way she sat next to him in class without saying anything.
Maybe she had understood, before he did, that he was about to disappear.
And that it was better not to get attached.
Leo pulled out his phone.
No signal.
The road narrowed.
On either side, trees rose—tall, dark, dense—as if they were closing in on the car.
An immense, endless forest drowned in thick mist.
"This is Route 9," his father said. "We'll take it every day to get to town."
"Well… except you," his mother added. "You'll have the school bus."
Leo shrugged without answering.
The sign appeared:
"Welcome to Crescent Hill – Population: 10,204."
He frowned.
The "4" looked like it had been repainted recently—too fresh compared to the other faded letters.
The car slowed as they approached an intersection.
A figure stood still near the empty bus stop.
An old man, probably. Or a drifter.
Leo couldn't tell.
But the man lifted his head. And looked straight at him.
Not a vacant stare.
An attentive one.
As if he already knew who Leo was.
A chill ran down his spine.
He rubbed his arms.
"You cold?" his mother asked.
"No," he lied.
They left the main road and entered an isolated path flanked by unmoving trees.
The house appeared after a few minutes: a strange building, angular, made of glass and dark stone, like an anomaly dropped in the middle of the forest.
"There it is," his father said, a proud smile tugging at his lips.
"Our fresh start."
Leo stepped out of the car. He looked up at the trees… and thought he heard—just for a second—
A rustle that didn't belong to the wind.
Something… or someone… was watching.
Silent.
Like him.