The world outside the crumbling street was silent, too silent. The kind of quiet that presses on your eardrums and makes your skin prickle, like the air itself is holding its breath.
Alex tightened his grip on the crowbar, the metal cold against his palm despite the sweat coating his skin. Liam walked ahead of him, blade ready, eyes scanning every shadow as if they expected something to crawl out at any moment.
That's when Alex heard it.
A voice. Soft. Gentle. Familiar.
"Alex…"
His steps faltered.
No. It couldn't be.
"Alex, sweetheart… come here."
It was his mother's voice. The same lilting tone she used when calling him in for dinner as a child. He hadn't heard it in years—not since—
He swallowed hard, eyes darting to the alley on their left.
Through the darkness, a faint figure stood. Pale skin, dark hair curling over her shoulders. She was smiling. Just like she used to.
"Mom?" The word left him in a whisper, fragile and disbelieving.
