The car hums to a stop, the engine sighing into silence as the last vibrations tremble through the chassis. For a moment, I sit still, my hands resting on the steering wheel, staring through the windshield at the house before me.
Warm golden light glows from a few of the floor-to-ceiling windows while the rest remain dark, waiting.
I exhale slowly, then step out into the cold night air. The wind bites at my skin immediately—sharp and insistent, carrying the scent of fresh snow. The door closes behind me with a solid, satisfying thud. I adjust my coat, fingers brushing over the collar with practiced ease.
I begin walking toward the front door. Behind me comes the soft click of the passenger door, followed by quiet footsteps over the frozen ground.
I don't turn around.
Silas follows, his footsteps soft and unhurried, keeping a careful distance. Two steps behind me, exactly the same as always.
