I woke to a silence so complete it felt unnatural. The morning sunlight stretched across the cabin floor, slanting through the cracks of the curtains in long, lazy beams. Everything should have felt safe. It didn’t. There was a tension in the air, a subtle sharpness that made the hairs on my arms stand at attention.

Dante was already awake, sitting at the small table with his hands wrapped around a cup of black coffee, his expression unreadable. The way he stared into the dark liquid made me wonder if he could see ghosts in the swirls. I leaned against the doorframe, feeling the first tentative stirrings of unease.

“Good...