Palo sprinted down the narrow sidewalk, fog swirling around his legs like grasping hands. His breath came in harsh bursts, loud in the silence. The slap of his shoes against the pavement echoed off the old brick buildings.
But beneath his own footsteps…
There it was again.
Another rhythm.
Soft.
Steady.
Deliberate.
Following him.
Palo didn't dare look back.
He cut sharply into an alley. A chain-link fence loomed at the end. He grabbed the metal and pulled himself up, the cold wires biting into his palms. He climbed fast, swung a leg over, and dropped down on the other side, landing hard enough that his knees jolted with pain.
He bit back a gasp.
And listened.
Silence.
Then—
A faint scuff on the concrete.
Right outside the alley.
Whoever it was had followed him.
Palo pressed his back against the wall, trying to quiet his trembling breaths. His mind raced.
Who would follow me? Why? Is this connected to Audrey? To Ash? To something else entirely?
The footsteps paused.
Palo shut his eyes.
A moment later…the sound faded. Slowly. As if the follower had changed direction or lost interest.
Or was waiting somewhere he couldn't see.
Palo stayed still for a full minute, counting slowly under his breath. Only when he was sure he couldn't hear anything else did he step away from the wall.
He needed a plan.
He needed Ash.
But Ash's phone was dead or turned off, and the police didn't trust either of them enough yet.
Palo thought through every place Ash might go when he disappeared — the old canal, the bridge behind the school, the abandoned greenhouse by the district border.
But tonight's frightened voice on the phone didn't sound like someone hiding in a familiar spot.
It sounded like someone running toward something.
Or someone.
Palo swallowed. The fog shifted, drifting toward a row of streetlamps that flickered like they were struggling to stay alive.
He headed toward the only place he knew Ash might go if he was desperate.
The greenhouse.
It wasn't far.
He kept close to the walls of buildings as he moved, glancing over his shoulder every few steps. Nothing followed him now, but the uneasiness stayed sharp in his chest.
When he reached the edge of the district, the greenhouse finally came into view — a dark shape behind tall fences, its shattered glass panels glowing faintly under the moonlight. Weeds choked what used to be rows of soil beds. Patches of fog drifted inside through the broken roof.
Palo's breath hitched.
Someone was standing inside.
A silhouette.
Still.
Watching the door.
Palo stepped back, breath catching in his throat.
Then the figure turned.
The faint moonlight hit their face for just a second—
Ash.
He looked pale, exhausted, eyes red-rimmed like he hadn't slept in days. His expression was tense, almost pained.
Palo pushed through the greenhouse door, the rusted hinges screeching loudly.
"Ash," he said, voice unsteady. "What's going on? Why did you call me? Why did you tell me not to go home? Who was following me?"
Ash didn't answer any of the questions.
Instead, he stepped closer, shaking his head slowly.
"You shouldn't be here."
Palo's chest tightened. "I had nowhere else to go."
Ash closed his eyes like the words hurt him.
Then he said quietly:
"Palo… someone is trying to erase everyone who gets too close to the truth about Audrey."
Palo felt the air leave his lungs.
"What truth?"
Ash opened his eyes.
And for the first time, Palo saw something raw beneath the calm mask he always wore — fear. Real fear.
"I think I know who took her," Ash whispered.
Palo's heart pounded so loudly he almost didn't hear him.
Ash took a shaky breath.
"And I think they're coming for you next."
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