I couldn't stop checking the clock. Every tick made my stomach twist a little tighter. It was getting dark, and Silas still hadn't called.
"Pull yourself together, Aurora," I swallowed the worry rising in my throat.
I'll just cook dinner to keep myself busy. Silas would be tired from the long drive, and a hot meal would be one less thing for him to worry about. I pulled the chicken from the freezer, the cold seeping into my fingertips as I set it on the counter. I was halfway through chopping garlic when I realized I needed onions. Silas had picked some a few days ago and left them in a basket on the porch.
The evening air felt cool against my skin as I stepped outside. Crickets chirped in the distance, their song making the silence around the house seem even deeper.
I'd just grabbed an onion when I saw a dark figure standing by the lake. I couldn't make out a face in the fading light, but something about the way it stood there made my blood run cold. My heart pounded when it took a step forward.
The sound of tires on the gravel driveway cut through my fear. Headlights swept the darkness as Silas's car pulled up. When I glanced back at the lake, the figure had vanished.
The car door flew open before the engine even died. Silas vaulted out, his body moving with such urgency that I instinctively stepped back. His eyes locked onto me immediately. He crossed the distance between us in seconds as if he's racing against some invisible clock. He looked like a man who'd seen the worst possible outcome and was desperately trying to prevent it from happening again.
"What are you doing outside?" The muscles in his jaw were tight, his expression a storm of anger and naked worry.
I held up the basket. "G-getting onions for dinner?"
"I specifically told you to stay inside." His eyes darted to the now-empty lakeside. I noticed how his posture shifted slightly. Like a predator aware of another in his territory
"It was just for a minute–"
"Inside. Now."
He placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the house. Once the door was closed behind us, he locked it immediately and went around checking every window, drawing curtains closed.
"Did you see someone out there?" he asked after pulling the last curtain shut.
"By the lake," I swallowed hard. "Did you see it too?"
Silas's jaw clenched. The way he didn't answer right away was louder than anything he could have said.
"Stay away from the windows. And don't go outside again without telling me."
"What's going on, Silas?" I asked, but he only took the onions from my hands, and placed them on the counter.
His silence only fueled my anger. My mind raced with scenarios, each worse than the last. Was it connected to my grandfather's disappearance? Are we in danger?
"What aren't you telling me?" I slammed my palm against the counter. "Something's happening, and you're keeping me in the dark!"
His eyebrows raised slightly at my outburst.
"I'm trying to keep you safe," he countered.
"By keeping me ignorant? How does that help?"
"Because knowing won't make you safer," he snapped. "It'll just make you more afraid."
"I'm already afraid! I'm terrified, and my mind is creating worst-case scenarios because you won't tell me anything!"
We stared at each other, both breathing hard. Something in my expression must have gotten through to him. His anger deflated as he really looked at me.
"Aurora." His voice softened as he stepped closer. "I'm sorry."
"Just tell me what's happening, please."
He sighed and reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face. "We need to go to the city tomorrow. You're right, you should see the situation at your estate firsthand."
My heart stumbled. "Did you find something about my grandfather?"
My heart ached when his expression softened with regret. "Everyone's working around the clock. That's all I know for certain." His thumb traced my cheekbone gently. "Let's finish making dinner. You need to eat, and we should get some rest if we're leaving early."
I nodded, leaning briefly into his touch before returning to the half-prepared meal.
We finished making dinner in silence. The only sounds were the soft clink of utensils against plates and the occasional creak of the old cabin settling around us. Silas also ate quietly, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere. His eyes would occasionally drift to the windows, ears tuned to every sound from outside.
I wanted to ask more questions, but the tension between us warned me against it. The distance between us felt greater than the few feet of table separating us. I caught him watching me once or twice, but his expression was unreadable.
When we finished, he took my barely-touched plate without comment. We cleaned up together, moving around each other in the kitchen with familiarity that felt strangely hollow tonight.
"Get some rest," he said finally.
I nodded and retreated to my bedroom, though I knew sleep wouldn't come easily.
Hours later, I was still awake, staring at the ceiling. My mind raced with disturbing thoughts–the figure by the lake, Silas's strange behavior, and my grandfather's disappearance. Every time I closed my eyes, new worries surfaced.
After tossing and turning until my sheets were a tangled mess, I gave up. I think a cold milk would help me sleep.
The floorboards creaked softly as I made my way downstairs in darkness. I found my way to the kitchen and poured milk into a glass. The cool liquid was halfway to my lips when a voice came from behind me.
"Can't sleep?"
I gasped and nearly dropped the glass as I spun around. Silas stood in the doorway, wearing only pajama bottoms, his chest bare in the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. The defined planes of his torso caught the silver light.
"You scared me," my heart racing for reasons I didn't want to examine too closely.
"Sorry." He stepped further into the kitchen. "I heard you come down."
"Did I wake you?"
He shook his head. "I wasn't asleep."
Of course he wasn't.
"Cold milk?" he asked, nodding at my glass.
"Old habit."
He smiled faintly.
"Does it ever work for you? When you can't sleep?"
"Not really," he moved closer. "But company sometimes helps."
We stood in silence for a moment, the air between us charged with things unsaid.
"You're worried about tomorrow," he muttered. It wasn't a question.
I nodded before taking a sip of milk.
Silas ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. "You don't have to be alone tonight." His voice was low. "If you want... you could stay in my room."
I looked up at him, a bit surprised. In all our time together, I'd never been in his bedroom. Whenever we shared a bed, it was always in mine. His space had remained private, a boundary I'd never questioned.
"Are you sure?" I asked quietly.
He nodded and extended his hand. "Come on."
I set down my half-finished milk and placed my hand in his. His fingers were warm and steady as they closed around mine. He led me upstairs, past my bedroom door to the one at the end of the hall that had always been closed to me.