The light was fading quickly. That lonely stretch of road had grown darker, quieter, and emptied of wind, birds, or motion. Even tall trees, leaning like watchers, seemed to have hushed themselves. The air was dense and thick to the point of discomfort, and the distant hum of insects had dulled like a volume being turned down gradually. A weak orange haze glowed along the horizon, but the woods behind the house swallowed most of it.
Adex had not moved from the driver's seat. His hands gripped the steering wheel weakly, but his gaze remained fixed on the house. He stared at the unmoving, blank windows as if they had forgotten how to blink.
Anna shifted beside him, clearly tense. Her arms were curled across her chest, her chin tucked down as if bracing for something. "Adex," she murmured, "it's almost night."
He didn't respond; he just kept watching.
Anna continued, her voice more urgent this time. "Let's go. Please. This place gives me the chills. He could have already contacted the cops or even set us up. What if he claims we tried to rob him?"
Adex didn't blink. "He'd have called by now." "He did not."
"That doesn't mean he won't. Maybe he's waiting for us to fall asleep or something."
Adex shook his head. "He's hiding something."
Anna sighed; it sounded more like defeat than frustration.
Then—movement.
The front door creaked open, and the man returned—no firearm this time. His slumped form moved with quick, heavy steps, his shirt still half-buttoned, and his white beard hung like a scraggly cloud beneath his chin.
Anna tensed. "He's coming."
Adex fixed his gaze on the man without shifting. Anna's fingers brushed against the car door lock as the man approached.
This time, the man's voice had softened. "Didn't mean to scare you before."
Adex listened, locking eyes with him.
"I was angry," the man said. "You came out of nowhere, asking for someone who's been gone a year now."
Anna gulped. "We're sorry. We didn't mean to upset you. We just wanted to know what happened to her."
The man nodded slowly. "Come on. I'll show you."
Adex paused for a moment.
"She's buried out back," he added, motioning with his hand. "You deserve to see if you came this far."
Adex and Anna followed him through the thinning brush behind the house. Anna stumbled slightly over a root, yet she didn't complain. She appeared too stunned to speak.
The grave sat crooked under an old willow tree, the dirt rounded and worn as if it had been there for decades. A wooden cross leaned slightly to the left. The name carved in rough script read, "Linda Monroe." There were no dates, no flowers, just a dry patch of dirt and a name.
They exchanged brief introductions: the man introduced himself as Matthew, and Adex and Anna shared their names. The light and friendly mood made the moment feel easy and warm.
Matthew stood beside the grave and placed a calloused hand on the cross. "She was my sister. My only family. I buried her myself."
He spoke with fragile tenderness. Tears welled up in her eyes. Anna's face crumpled in sympathy.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, almost whispering. "I can't imagine."
Matthew nodded, wiping his face. "I miss her," he sobbed softly.
"She was my older sister," Matthew continued, his voice thick with emotion. "Everybody loved her." A faint, sorrowful smile crossed his face. "She was the one woman in the family no one could ignore. They cherished her deeply."
Adex said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the grave, cold and attentive. He realised something did not fit.
"How did she die?" Adex asked quietly, his eyes fixed on the grave.
Matthew wiped at his tears, his shoulders trembling as he cried.
Anna watched him, a wave of sympathy rising in her chest.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she said gently.
"Thank you," Matthew murmured, his voice choked with grief.
Anna tapped Adex on the arm. "Adex?"
He blinked and looked up.
Matthew extended a hand. "By the way, I'm Matthew."
They shook hands briefly.
Matthew turned away, leaving them in silence.
Back in the car, Matthew waved them off like an old friend. Adex didn't return the gesture—he kept his eyes locked on Matthew. But Anna responded with a wave and a genuine smile.
Matthew walked back into the house.
Adex drove carefully, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror as the wheels crunched around the gravel.
Anna leaned her head against the seat and exhaled deeply. "At least now we know that Linda is dead."
Adex's foot slipped off the gas.
He hit the brakes.
Hard.
Anna lurched forward, bracing herself against the dashboard. "What the hell?"
Adex's eyes remained focused on the rearview mirror. "Look."
She followed his gaze.
In the first-floor window—just behind the curtain—a shape moved. Thin, small.
And upstairs, another figure passed by, a brief silhouette against the glass.
"That's not him," Adex said, his voice dry.
Anna leaned closer. "No. It's somebody else."
"That grave," Adex said, pointing back with his thumb, "was fake."
Anna blinked. "What are you talking about?"
The dirt was old. The wooden cross appeared weathered, as if it had been there for twenty years instead of just one. If she died last year, what is the date? Where is the stone? That cross seemed hastily assembled, like a stage prop.
Anna looked down at her lap, shaken. "But the name—"
"They carved her name. Anyone could've done that. If she were important to her family, like in that article, they would've done more than some rotten plank in the dirt."
Anna didn't reply.
"When I asked the man how she died, he avoided eye contact. He didn't give any details. "Just grief."
"You think he faked the grave?" Anna asked.
"I think Linda's still alive and she's inside that house," Adex responded.
Anna was about to argue, but then—
A bang on the back glass.
Both of them jumped.
Adex spun, hand on the gear, ready to move.
A woman stood there.
Mid-twenties. Eyes wide, hair unkempt, breathing rapidly as if she had been running. She hit the glass again, softer this time.
Adex reached for the door, ready to step out and meet her, but Anna pulled him back.
"Don't open it! What if it's a trap?" Anna warned, her voice tight with fear.
Adex slid the window open halfway.
The girl leaned in, glancing over her shoulder. "Are you looking for Granny?"
Adex nodded. "Yes."
"She doesn't live here," she said.
"Then where does she live?" Adex inquired.
The girl shoved a slightly moist, folded piece of paper through the window. "You didn't get this from me," she said quickly. "I've been watching since you got here. I knew you were asking for Granny."
Anna stared at her, frozen.
"What's your name?" Adex inquired.
"I'm Emma," the girl added. "Please go. He's going to do something bad if you stay."
Adex took the note and barely managed a thank you before Emma darted off, disappearing between the trees.
Anna stared at the note. "This could be a trap."
"It's not a trap," he said, his expression steady with confidence.
"Or maybe she was sent to test us," Anna murmured, her voice trembling and terror on her face.
Adex shook his head. "She was scared. And she mentioned 'Granny.' She didn't say Linda. That tells me she knows her. Personal."
Anna didn't argue again. But her fists grabbed the seatbelt like she might tear it in half.
"She warned us to leave. Let's go," Adex said quietly.
Adex started the engine.
He didn't speak for a while.
He drove off.
As the house disappeared in the rearview mirror, the window curtains shifted one last time, casting two shadows across the walls.
The note sat unopened in his lap, whispering louder than any voice had that day.
Something inside that house wasn't right.
And someone—maybe Linda—was still alive.