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Jonah winced. “You have to hurry. They’ll kill her,” he whispered. “He’s… he’s mad.”

“Layne, your phone.”

She handed me the phone, before walking into Diya’s room. I texted Vincent about Millie and Jonah.

When Layne came out of Diya’s room, she was carrying a bag. “She’ll need them,” Layne said.

“This way,” I said, motioning her toward the back of Hollowhaven where I had hidden my motorcycle.

“Yours?”

Nodding, I handed her a helmet. “This will be faster.”

My fingers shook as I put on my own helmet. I… I couldn’t lose her. If I lost her, I would burn this fucking town down, consequences be damned.

The streets, usually quiet at this hour, were flooded with people as I rushed past them. Civilians, officers, firefighters, and volunteers with flashlights in hand, calling out Millie’s name.

The wail of sirens echoed in the distance as patrol cars roamed the roads, their spotlights cutting through the darkness.

I drove through a thicket of trees until the hunting cabin came into view. It stood eerily alone, swallowed by the silence of the woods.

Before I’d even cut the engine, Layne was jumping down. She threw off her helmet and bolted toward the cabin.

She kicked the door open. “Damn it. She’s not here, Asher,” she said, spinning around, breath ragged.

We stepped outside, shouting for Diya, our voices swallowed by walls of trees.

“What if she is…” Layne didn’t finish. Her voice cracked, and when I looked over, her eyes were glassy.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head, trying to push the fear away. “No, you know her. Diya won’t die. She doesn’t give up.”

Layne bit down on her trembling lip as we pushed deeper into the trees. Shadows had started to stretch across the forest floor, even though it wasn’t evening yet.

Layne stopped short, gasping.

“Asher, look here.”

I hurried over just as she bent down and picked something shiny from the ground.

“It’s hers,” Layne said, handing me the anklet. It was the one she was wearing this morning.

I looked around, studying our surroundings. There were no cabins, no buildings out here. Nothing but woods and silence.

But this place was old. I’d heard rumors about bomb shelters in Duskwood Park.

If you were a pair of serial killers looking for the perfect hiding spot to torture and kill…

“I don’t see anything else,” Layne said, scanning the area.

“It has to be underground,” I muttered, eyes sweeping the forest floor. “Start looking for anything—hatch, vent, disturbed ground, anything that doesn’t fit.”

I tucked the anklet in my pocket, jaw tight.

“We find Diya,” I said, my voice low, “and then we bury that bastard alive.”

Dear A,

The spiders… he lets them feed on me when he’s done feeding on my flesh. He watches them becoming a part of me, as he had.