Chapter 40
Eric
I went upstairs without Harmony because she seemed to need space.
I was also exhausted maybe from the worry of the woman I loved being in the face of danger constantly.
I’d gone upstairs and fallen asleep knowing I had to show her I trusted in her after our talk about her sharing everything with me.
Since the talk she’d been softer with me, more open than she’d been in days, curling into my sweater like she needed something to hold on to.
But there had been something in her eyes.
A distance. A bracing. A gathering storm and I couldn’t shake it.
I felt her settle into bed beside me at some point.
I watched her briefly before my eyes lulled shut her breathing shifting between steady and tense, like her body was trying to rest but her mind refused to follow.
A knot tightened under my ribs. I brushed a knuckle along her cheek.
Her skin was warm beneath my touch. But when my hand drifted away, she curled slightly toward herself, one hand rising unconsciously toward her chest like she was protecting something.
Or preparing to. My throat pulled tight.
I drifted back to sleep but it was restless and filled with nightmares of her running off into the stormy night.
I awoke with a gasp and my heart racing but when I looked over, I saw her form cuddled beneath the covers.
I must’ve dozed longer than I realized. I wanted to touch her but I didn’t want to wake her if she was finally asleep.
I went downstairs to get a glass of water since I felt parched.
The house felt colder, the storm pressing against the windows hard enough that the old panes shivered in their frames.
I crossed into the kitchen, filled a glass at the tap, and drank half of it in silence.
My reflection in the dark window looked tense, wired, wide awake.
Snow whipped past the porch light in frantic spirals.
I set the glass down and leaned closer to the window and that was when I saw a figure.
It stood near the break in the ridge path.
Tall. Hooded. Still as stone. My breath stopped.
The stranger turned their head toward the house, toward me, as if they felt me looking.
A cold, sharp shiver slid down my spine.
Before I could react, they stepped backward into the trees and vanished.
My pulse kicked into a hard, fast rhythm.
I didn’t waste another second. I hurried upstairs, two steps at a time, my heart pounding as I reached the bedroom doorway. She was still fast asleep in the same position as when I had left the room. I remained ultra-focused on her and noticed no movement at all, and that’s when my heart jumped.
“Harmony?” My voice came out low but I wasn’t expecting an answer.
I yanked the covers back to find pillows where she should be sleeping.
Her side of the bed was cold. Not warm. Not recently vacated.
Cold. The breath left my lungs in a fractured exhale.
I checked the bathroom to find it empty.
My pulse roared like a storm in my ears.
As I ventured downstairs to the mudroom.
Her coat was gone and her boots were missing from the mat.
She’d left. She walked out into the snow alone.
I swallowed hard as fear spiked like lightning through my chest. She was gone.
I grabbed my phone and called her. It rang only half a ring before jumping straight to voicemail.
My stomach dropped. I moved fast, half-running toward the mudroom.
I yanked open the back door. Snow brushed my ankles immediately since it was deeper than I expected.
The cold slapped my face, dragging a sharper awareness into me.
Fresh tracks.
I crouched, touching the edge of a print. The snow hadn’t begun to fill it in yet. She’d been gone ten minutes at most. Maybe fifteen. But in this weather? That was already too long.
“Sunshine,” I whispered, voice breaking as the wind carried it away. “What are you doing… where are you going?”
Only one explanation made sense. She wasn’t running from me.
She was running to something. Something dangerous and familiar.
Something she didn’t trust any of us to face besides her.
My chest tightened painfully. She left to protect us.
I had no doubt in my mind, and that scared me more.
I moved back into the mudroom with purpose now, snatching my jacket from the hook.
The thick winter lining slapped cold against my skin as I shoved my arms through the sleeves.
I grabbed the first boots I could reach, jamming my feet in and tugging the laces tight enough to bite.
Then I took a flashlight from the shelf, went back to the kitchen, and out to the porch. The cold air felt like a warning.
Her footprints cut through the snow, moving toward the ridge path not toward town.
Toward Marcel’s property. Ice slid down my spine.
She had been distant all evening. Quiet in that specific way that wasn’t calm.
The way someone gets when they’re making a decision they know will affect others.
She’d reached for me like she needed something to hold on to…
But it hadn’t been enough to make her stay.
She’d kissed me goodnight like someone committing something to memory.
I clenched my jaw and stepped into the snow.
No. I wasn’t letting her disappear into the dark without me. I moved onto the ridge path and stopped dead. A shape stood farther down the trail, half-hidden behind a maple tree. Tall. Hood up. Snow falling over their shoulders. Watching. Waiting. Tracking.
My breath stuttered, freezing in my throat.
I blinked once and the figure slipped into the woods.
Silent. Swift. Intentional. It wasn’t Harmony and their presence wasn’t an accident.
It was sign. Harmony wasn’t the only one out here tonight.
I didn’t have time to think. Didn’t have time to be afraid.
I tightened my grip on the flashlight and took off down the path, boots sinking into snow, breath burning hot and fast in my lungs.
“Harmony,” I whispered into the wind, into the storm swallowing everything. “Please… don’t be too far. Please.”
The footprints grew softer as the snow filled them. The woods felt too quiet. Too still.