Page 11 of What the Shadows Hide
That old ache slides under my ribs. I look past him to the row of aging barrels, each stamped with the Blackwell crest. Control. Legacy. The illusion of order.
“I’ll handle it,” I say.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s what worries me.”
He walks away, his boots echoing on the metal stairs.
When the door slams behind him, the air feels too still again.
Through the window, I can just make out the faint line of the ridge—her ridge.
A darker thought settles in, quiet but immovable. If she keeps pushing, I’ll have to push back.
And I’m not sure which of us will break first.
The sun bleedsout behind the mountains, leaving the valley caught between gold and shadow. I tell myself I’m only taking the long way home, checking for storm damage. But when the road curves toward the Voss property again, I slow down.
From this distance, the house looks peaceful—porch lights glowing, windows open to the evening air. She’s there, framed in one of them, blonde hair loose around her shoulders, head bent over a notebook.
I should keep driving.
Instead, I kill the headlights and sit there, watching her.
Every so often, she looks up, scanning the trees like she feels me out here. The thought twists something profound in my chest, part guilt, part satisfaction.
She’s adapting to the valley faster than I expected. The vines around her look alive again, green reaching toward her instead of away.
I tighten my grip on the wheel. “Careful, Raine,” I murmur. “You keep tempting the storm, it’ll start thinking you want it back.”
For a long moment, I stay there, the hum of the engine the only sound between us.
Then I put the truck in reverse, letting the night swallow the light as I back away.
The valley keeps its secrets well.
But tonight, one of them looks back.
CHAPTER 7
Raine
The house feels different tonight—stilland watchful.
It’s probably just my nerves, but every creak of the old floorboards sounds like a footstep that isn’t mine. I’ve double-checked every lock—front door, cellar, mudroom—but the unease won’t let go. It lingers like humidity after a storm.
I settle at the kitchen table with my notebook, trying to make a to-do list.
Fix porch railing
Replace cracked windowpane.
