apart in my chest, tears burning hot down my face. Raine pressed her back to the door and sank with me, her shoulders trembling.

“We made it back,” I whispered.

And for the first time all night, I let myself believe we might survive until morning.~

on the table. The fireplace was lit, and a stack of extra blankets and pillows waited on the bed. It was the small mercy waiting for us that finally got to me.

And that was it.

The second the latch clicked behind us, my strength gave out. I slid down the wall to the carpeted floor, breath breaking

twice what they should. Each step is a battle. Each landing was a place where I nearly folded. But Raine’s grip never loosened. And mine didn’t either.

She got the key into the door on the second try. The room opened, lamplight on, trays already inside, steam curling from dishes, bottles sweating

and uneven, tugging me toward the entrance. We weren’t walking so much as dragging ourselves forward, two bodies running on fumes and fear.

Inside, the lobby glowed warm, the air soft and steady. Safe and ordinary enough that it too felt like a warning. We climbed the stairs like our bones weighed

braking hard. For a moment I felt like the car threw us out, like it had carried us exactly as far as it could before it decided it wanted no part in whatever followed. I half expected it to drive itself away once we were out.

Cold air slapped my face as I got out. Raine was already moving, fast

Sorted. Something normal for once.”

York rose around us like a city finally remembering how to be itself. Streetlamps steady. Windows familiar. No shadows moving wrong, no fog curling like fingers. Just roads and rain and the hollow ache behind my ribs.

Raine pulled up outside the Guy Fawkes Inn,

“Hiya. We need like, all of the food, drinks, something pharmaceutical, et cetera, sent up to the room. Whatever you’ve got. It’s been a night.” Raine spoke the room number without looking away from the road.

“We’ll bring it up straightaway.”

I hung up, let the phone fall into my lap. “There.

“Raine (@romanticraine.bsky.social)… your phone’s back,” I murmured, voice cracking on the edges.

It stayed on. Solid. Normal.

I pressed the call button for the Guy Fawkes Inn. It rang through cleanly, no distortion, no static, nothing strange.

“Front desk, how can I help?"

night was still clinging to me like wet fabric, heavy and cold. The wipers dragged across the glass in tired strokes as the country road blurred past, and the silence in the car felt thick enough to choke on.

Then, without warning... the screen lit up. Bright. Sudden

Alive.