Page 38 of Lost to the Woods

Then—

Silence.

Flat and brutal. The kind that makes your ears ring.

We don’t speak.

We barely have a heartbeat.

Minutes pass like molasses.

Eventually, the cicadas outside return to singing. Normal. Almost too normal.

“More drinks, yes?” Dev proposes. He shuts off his camera before walking towards the table.

Nate follows.

I suck in a shaky breath and slowly peel myself from Ghost. My legs feel like jelly, my head still spinning. And I really need to shower.

Kendra meets my gaze, her usual bravado completely gone, “I’m good.”

I nod, agreeing. Then I whisper, “Bathroom? I’m not going upstairs alone.”

Kendra hugs herself. “Yeah, same.”

Girl code. Underlined and bolded.

The shower is cold and refreshing, but it doesn’t help. I haven’t had this dreadful feeling since I saw my first horror movie too early in life. I peek through the curtain more than once.

There’s nothing there. Just Kendra, perched on the toilet lid, scrolling silently through her phone.

Gosh, this is going to be a long night.

She takes her turn next while I go through my nighttime skincare routine, trying to make myself feel human. Every time I meet my own eyes in the mirror, I flinch a little. The adrenaline is pumping, as I expect to see something standing right behind me. Or worse, my own reflection to break the 4thwall.

Shut up!We don’t think about it.

We dry off, get dressed in our PJs, and crawl into bed in the same room. No argument. No teasing. We don’t want to be alone.

The bedside lamp stays on.

We talk briefly as she tries to fish for details about Ghost. I respond in half-sentences, doing my best to ditch the subject as fast as possible. I’m too confused about my feelings to even think about it right now. I mean, our conversation on the porch is a lot to process. Not to mention how shaken I still am after what transpired next.

We hear guys in the hallway as they come upstairs and get ready for bed, which makes her eventually back off the subject.

Ghost sends me a goodnight text.

Then, quiet. Just a white noise of cicadas singing outside.

I’m not sure when exactly, but Kendra falls asleep. She’s breathing softly beside me, her back turned, lost to whatever peaceful dreamland I wish I could be in.

I lie awake, staring up at the ceiling, listening for anything out of the ordinary. The gentle summer wind. The minimal creaks of the old wood. The breathy silence between.

That whistle is still buried in my head like a splinter.

And the shadow on Dev’s camera?

It wasn’t staged.

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