As the rental car rolled to a stop on the dark road, her fear increased by the moment. The engine ticked as it cooled, a sound too loud in the suffocating silence. Sarah’s hands, white-knuckled on the steering wheel, trembled. The dashboard lights painted her face in a sickly green glow. She shouldn’t have taken this shortcut, a dirt track that cut through the heart of the sprawling woodland. Her GPS had blinked out miles ago. A branch scraped against the passenger door. She flinched, a gasp catching in her throat. Every shadow beyond the windshield seemed to writhe, coalescing into shapes that vanished the moment she focused. The air inside the car grew thick, heavy. She could hear her own heartbeat, a frantic drum against her ribs. Then, a light. A single, bobbing beam, cutting through the trees ahead. It was coming closer. Relief, sharp and sudden, flooded her. She fumbled for the door handle, ready to flag down whoever it was. The light reached her window. It wasn’t a torch, but an old-fashioned hurricane lamp, its glass smoky. The face behind it was lined, weary, and framed by a tangle of grey hair. An old man. He leaned down, and she rolled the window down a crack. “Lost, are you?” His voice was a dry rustle. “Yes, my phone…” she started, her words tumbling out. He didn’t seem to listen. His gaze drifted past her, to the back seat. A slow, sad smile touched his lips. “Ah. You brought him back.” A cold that had nothing to do with the night air slithered down her spine. She twisted in her seat. The back seat was empty. It had to be empty. But in the shifting lamplight, for a fleeting second, she saw the indentation on the passenger seat, as if someone had just been sitting there. And that was the moment he finally understood what it had cost him.