The road back to where it all happened wasn't just miles - it was memories. Erica didn't tell Max. Not because she didn't trust him, but because she didn't want to keep dragging him through the fire with her. She needed to do this. Alone.
The narrow path curved into silence. Trees stood tall, almost as if they were guarding secrets no one dared to speak of. She asked around the nearby houses, knocking softly, speaking gently.
Most didn't open their doors.
But one old woman did - eyes sunken, voice tired.
"You're not the first girl to ask," she said.
Erica's chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
The woman looked around, then lowered her voice. "A few months back... a girl. Screams were heard. My neighbor's son heard it. They called the police. But by the time anyone got there, they were gone."
"Gone?" Erica whispered.
The woman nodded. "Vanished. And the one who made the report... his own daughter was killed weeks later. People stopped talking. Fear does that to a place. Quietness becomes safety."
Erica's hands trembled. "Where... where did it happen?"
"A few kilometers down. Abandoned place. Don't go there, child."
But she did.
And when she reached the broken-down building, something inside her broke. The walls were stained. Blood still marked the floor like shadows refusing to fade. She couldn't breathe.
Flashes returned-pain, screaming, the feeling of being dragged, ripped apart, destroyed.
She fell to her knees.
Tears carved down her face as her body trembled, the memories clawing their way back. This place had seen horror. And maybe... her horror wasn't the only one.
She wanted to talk to the family. The girl who died. But how could she open a wound that had barely scabbed? She didn't want to be the reason someone else bled again.
Then her phone vibrated.
Max: Where are you?
She hesitated, then replied.
Erica: Asking around... I'm okay.
She didn't expect him to arrive so fast. But within minutes, he was there - rage in his eyes, fists clenched.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he barked, marching toward her.
She stepped back. "I was just-"
"Just what? Playing detective now? Running around like it didn't almost kill you the first time?"
"I didn't ask you to come," she said, trying to stay calm.
"You're not thinking!" His voice roared, sharp and cruel. "You never think! Do you want to die next time?"
Something in his tone - something violent and unspoken - made her flinch. He didn't hit her. But for a second, she wasn't sure if he wouldn't.
She walked past him without another word. Straight home. Her heart wasn't just hurting - it was warning her.
Later, her phone lit up.
Max: I didn't mean to yell. I was just worried. I don't want you getting hurt again.
Max: Please don't go alone again. Promise me.
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
She felt cold. Confused. But still... still a part of her wanted peace.
Erica: I promise.
A minute later, another message came.
Max: Tomorrow. Dinner? Just us. I'll pick you up.
She stared at the screen.
Erica: Okay.
But in her chest, something didn't sit right anymore.