CHAPTER 47: 47: A WORLD FULL OF SHADOWS

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a chill crept into the air, turning the crumbling walls of their refuge into icy slates. Zara pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, her thoughts drifting between the weight of Mia’s warning and the memory of Kit’s innocent "Mom."

Leo stirred beside her, his small body nestled into her side. His face was soft with the peacefulness of sleep, his breaths steady but faint, a rhythm she’d grown hyperaware of in the past weeks. She brushed a stray curl off his forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment.

I’m not his mother, she reminded herself, though the thought felt increasingly hollow. Yet, how could she not protect him like he was her own?

Her gaze shifted to Kit, now lying on his stomach a few feet away, idly twirling the little metal trinket between his fingers. His humming had stopped, replaced by quiet murmurs as he narrated some imagined adventure under his breath. He caught her watching and flashed a grin that sent a pang of warmth through her.

"You should sleep soon," Zara said softly, not wanting to wake Leo.

"Sleep’s boring," Kit replied with a playful shrug. "I’ll keep watch with Mia."

Zara didn’t miss the way his gaze darted toward Mia, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. Concern? Fear?

Kit’s energy, so vibrant most of the time, seemed dimmed tonight. Zara opened her mouth to ask what was on his mind but hesitated. Kit had been through too much already—whatever his worries were, she didn’t want to burden him further.

Instead, she rose slowly, careful not to disturb Leo. "Stay here," she said. "I’ll check the supplies."

Kit nodded absently, his fingers still fiddling with the trinket.

Zara moved toward the far corner of the room where their meager stash of food and tools was tucked away. Mia stood near the broken window, her posture as sharp as the knife she held. The tension in her frame was palpable, a reminder of her earlier warning.

"Mia," Zara called quietly, testing the waters.

Mia didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the horizon beyond the jagged edges of the glass.

Zara stepped closer, her boots crunching softly on the debris-strewn floor. "I saw something earlier—outside. Did you notice anything?"

Mia’s grip on her knife tightened slightly, but her expression didn’t change. "Nothing I couldn’t handle," she muttered.

It was typical Mia: closed off, stoic. But Zara knew better than to let it drop.

"Look," Zara said, her voice low but firm. "I appreciate the knife, but if there’s something out there—someone—we need to talk about it."

Mia turned then, her sharp green eyes locking onto Zara’s. "Talking won’t fix anything," she said bluntly.

The edge in her voice made Zara falter. She took a step back, folding her arms against the chill that wasn’t just from the air.

"What aren’t you telling me?" Zara asked, her tone softer now.

For a moment, Mia seemed on the verge of saying something, her lips parting slightly. But then she clamped them shut, her jaw tightening.

"It doesn’t matter," Mia said finally, turning back to the window. "Just keep the knife close."

Frustration bubbled in Zara’s chest, but she swallowed it down. Pushing Mia wouldn’t get her anywhere. With a sigh, she returned to Leo’s side, kneeling beside him and letting her fingers drift over his hair.

"Mama?" Leo’s sleepy voice murmured, his eyes fluttering open.

Zara’s heart clenched at the name, but she forced a soft smile. "I’m here, baby. Go back to sleep."

Leo blinked up at her, his small hand reaching out to grasp hers. "You’ll keep me safe?"

"Always," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional whistle of the wind through the broken walls. Kit had finally drifted off, his trinket clutched tightly in his hand. Mia remained by the window, a silent sentinel against the encroaching dark.

Zara leaned back against the wall, her knife resting in her lap. Her eyes flicked to Leo, now curled into himself, his little body rising and falling with each breath. He seemed better today, but the memory of his fragile state lingered in her mind.

She thought about the moment earlier when he’d used his space to play with Kit’s scarf. It was so innocent, so childlike—but it was also dangerous. If anyone saw...

Zara shuddered. She couldn’t let herself dwell on the "what ifs." They had enough to worry about without borrowing trouble.

Just as her eyelids began to grow heavy, a sound snapped her awake—a faint rustling outside.

Her head shot up, and her eyes darted toward the window. Mia was already on high alert, her body taut as she peered into the darkness.

"What is it?" Zara whispered, her fingers tightening around the knife.

Mia didn’t answer immediately. Her focus was locked on something Zara couldn’t see. After a long moment, she turned, her expression grim.

"Stay here," Mia said, her voice low but commanding.

"Mia, wait—"

But Mia was already moving, her footsteps silent as she slipped through the gap in the wall that served as their entrance.

Zara’s pulse quickened, fear clawing at her throat. She wanted to follow, but the weight of responsibility kept her rooted in place. She couldn’t leave Leo and Kit unprotected.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Zara’s grip on the knife grew clammy, her ears straining for any sound.

Then, finally, Mia returned, her face shadowed and unreadable.

"What happened?" Zara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing," Mia said curtly, brushing past her. "Just an animal."

Zara didn’t believe her for a second, but before she could press further, Mia crouched near Kit, shaking his shoulder gently.

"Wake up," Mia said. "We need to move."

Kit groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Move? But it’s still dark."

"Doesn’t matter," Mia snapped, her tone sharper than usual.

Zara frowned. "Mia, what’s going on?"

"I said it doesn’t matter," Mia bit out, her eyes flashing. "We can’t stay here."

The tension in the room was suffocating. Zara exchanged a glance with Kit, who looked as confused as she felt.

Reluctantly, they began packing their things, moving quickly but quietly. Zara kept a close eye on Mia, watching the way her hands trembled slightly as she tightened the straps on her bag.

Once they were ready, Mia led the way out of the building, her knife held tightly at her side. The streets were eerily quiet, the shadows stretching long and dark under the pale light of the moon.

Zara stayed close to Leo, her heart pounding with every step. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

As they turned a corner, a faint noise reached her ears—a rustling, followed by the faintest hint of movement in the shadows.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Mia’s head snapped around, her eyes scanning the darkness. "Keep moving," she hissed.

But it was too late.

From the shadows, a figure emerged—tall, cloaked, and utterly silent.

Zara’s breath caught in her throat as the figure stepped into the light, revealing a face half-hidden by a hood. There was something unnerving about the way they moved, their steps deliberate and predatory.

"Who’s there?" Mia demanded, her knife at the ready.

The figure didn’t answer, their head tilting slightly as if assessing them.

Zara’s grip tightened on Leo’s hand, her heart racing. "Mia," she whispered, panic rising in her chest.

"Stay back," Mia ordered, her voice firm.

But the figure didn’t stay back.

They took another step forward, their movements eerily calm. And then, without warning, they lunged.