Sarah's thoughts were still tangled from the strange encounter with Kim. Why is he even trying to talk to me? she wondered. But she brushed it off. That wasn't the problem. The real issue was far simpler: she wasn't walking with Adrian today. For the first time in a long while, she was walking home alone.
The road seemed longer than usual, stretching endlessly under the quiet sky. Normally, she would chat with Adrian, laugh about silly things, and the distance felt trivial. But now, the silence pressed in on her, wrapping her in a quiet regret she hadn't expected. Not regret, exactly—loneliness. It gnawed at her chest, reminding her that she hadn't realized how much she depended on those moments.
Her home finally came into view. She wanted nothing more than the small comfort it offered. Not because anyone was expecting her, and not because she feared being a burden—she simply wanted to be there. To feel the joy of a place that had always been home.
When she stepped inside, the familiar quiet of her room greeted her. A cool, gentle warmth lingered in the air. Memories rose unbidden: her father leaning over her desk to chat, laughter echoing from the dining table, family dinners full of chatter and small joys. The space felt empty now, as if the life had been hollowed out, leaving only shadows. Sarah's heart ached, missing what had once been, wishing for the comfort that was no longer tangible.
And yet, despite the emptiness, she felt drawn to the field, to the Scarecrow. Something tugged at her—an urge she could not explain. As she approached, she froze. She had expected the paint Rose, Kim, and Lila had thrown to have dried on his body. But it was gone. Completely. As if the incident had never occurred. A shiver ran down her spine, part fear, part confusion. Did Adrian clean it? she thought. It seemed impossible, yet there it was—undisturbed, standing silently in the field.
Taking a deep breath, she sat beside him. Words poured out almost instinctively—how she disliked Rose, how she wished things could return to normal, how she missed her mother, how she wanted her life back. Comfort enveloped her, the same warmth she had felt the first time she confided in it. But something felt… different. The field was not quite the same. Shadows seemed heavier, the air thicker, carrying a weight she couldn't place. She decided not to linger. I'll be fine, she told the Scarecrow, standing to leave. I'm going to Adrian's house now. You don't need to worry.
As she walked away, a strange sensation pricked at her back—someone watching. She turned, almost expecting to see the Scarecrow's gaze upon her. But there was nothing. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought as paranoia, hurrying toward Adrian's home.
Hours later, Adrian returned. "Ugh, the project was so boring. I don't even know weather I learn anything today," he complained, flopping onto the sofa.
Sarah laughed softly. "Well, you'll like this. I cooked, and your dad isn't home yet. The girls are upstairs in your room. Come eat."
Adrian chuckled. "Oh, my wife is cooking again, huh?"
Sarah smiled, ignoring him. "Do you want to eat or not?"
He quickly nodded. "Okay, okay, okay. Let me shower first and come back."
Sarah dished the food, calling the twins to join them. They ate, laughed, and played games. For a few hours, the house felt like the home it should have been—a fragile bubble of warmth and laughter.
Meanwhile, across town, Rose sat fuming in her room, phone pressed to her ear. "I've told you so many times to stop talking to Sarah! What's your problem?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
On the other end, Kim remained calm. "You can't tell me who I should talk to, Rose. Sarah is kind. I don't see her as a problem. And I don't want to argue about this anymore."
Rose's blood boiled. "How dare you! You say you love me and then talk to her? Not even someone better than me!"
"I'm not getting into this," Kim said firmly. "Goodbye." And he hung up.
Rose stared at the dead line, mouth open, fists clenched. She whispered curses under her breath, furious. But then—a soft squeak from downstairs. She paused. Another squeak, followed by a harsh thump, as though a door had slammed shut.
"Who's there?" she called out, her voice wavering. "Mom?"
Silence.
She ran downstairs, searching the shadows. "Mom?!" But no one answered.
A sound from upstairs made her dash back, heart pounding. She burst into her mother's room.
"What is it, Rose?" her mother asked groggily.
Rose could only gasp. "You… didn't hear it? I… I—"