POV: Siena Blake

We drove through the thick blanket of night, the darkness stretching endlessly ahead, swallowing the road behind us, until it felt like the world itself had disappeared into shadow. The headlights cut a narrow path through the gloom, but even their glow seemed tired, weak, barely able to pierce the silence that filled the car like a ghost neither of us could shake.

I didn’t speak.

Not for hours.

Not until the trees changed, until the road signs bore unfamiliar names, until the state lines were crossed and Weston was far behind us—far enough that I could pretend, for a moment, that the town where everything fell...