The night air was damp when Harper and Leo finally left the manor, their laughter still echoing faintly behind them. But as soon as they turned down the quiet road that cut through the woods, Harper slowed.
"Leo," she whispered, her shoulders tensing.
"I know," he said flatly.
The presence was unmistakable. A shadow clung to them like smoke, shifting at the edges of their vision, too silent, too patient. Whenever Harper turned her head, there was nothing—only trees swaying against the moonlight. But the feeling remained. Something was following them.
Leo slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing the pocketknife he always carried. His dark eyes narrowed, scanning the road. "Keep walking. Don't show it you're scared."
"I'm not scared," Harper muttered, but her voice was thinner than usual. "Just… creeped out. It's like someone's breathing down my neck."
