Ryan lay awake in his room, the pale wash of moonlight spilling across his ceiling like a quiet reminder that sleep wasn't coming. His house was silent, too silent, the kind of silence that didn't comfort but pressed down heavy, like something crouching in the corners, waiting.
He turned on his side, eyes catching the faint reflection of a picture frame on his desk. He didn't need to see it clearly to know what it was: four kids, smiles wide, standing too close together like they couldn't imagine a world where distance would exist between them. Gabriel's grin, Zoë's messy hair, his own awkward half-smile—then Gemma. Always Gemma, standing just a little apart, as though even back then she knew something the rest of them didn't.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, but the past crept in anyway. A laugh. A game. The four of them running outside, the sky low and heavy with the scent of rain. Then—something else. Something they were never supposed to see, never supposed to hear. The sound of voices not meant for children. A shadow moving where it shouldn't.
The memory blurred, as though his mind refused to paint the picture in full. All he could recall was the cold that slid through his body that day, the way Gemma's laughter had stopped mid-sound, how the air itself seemed to tighten. After that, nothing was the same.
He opened his eyes to the ceiling again, heart hammering. He wasn't like Gemma—she had folded into silence, shut herself away completely. He still spoke, but only when necessary. Words felt useless most of the time, as if they couldn't hold the weight of what he carried.
A sudden rustle outside his window pulled him upright. The branches swayed, though there was no wind. For a moment he thought he saw something—or someone—standing beyond the glass. Watching. His breath hitched, but when he blinked, it was gone.
His fists clenched in the sheets. He thought of Zoë, gone without a trace. He thought of Gabriel, searching for answers without realizing just how dangerous the questions were. And Gemma…
Always Gemma.
Ryan swallowed hard, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper in the dark:
"How am I supposed to protect her this time.....when I couldn't back then?"
The silence answered back, thick and unbroken. But Ryan knew one thing: the shadows weren't finished with them. Not yet.