Shadowbrook

Chapter 6: The Noose Tightens

"The truth is buried deeper than Cassidy imagined, and the lies surrounding her brother's death are starting to unravel—along with her sense of safety."

The cold air hit me the moment I stepped outside, a sharp slap that jolted me back to reality. Evan's words still echoed in my mind, twisting into knots I couldn't unravel. They're coming for you.

I pulled my jacket tighter, my breath misting in front of me as I stood outside the Moonlight Room. The streets were empty, Shadowbrook shrouded in a thick, oppressive silence that made every sound feel amplified. Even the wind seemed quieter here, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone watching me from the shadows. But there was nothing—no movement, no sign of the danger that was apparently closing in on me.

Evan had stayed behind, his warning hanging in the air between us like a threat. My family controls everything. They've been hiding in the shadows for years, pulling the strings.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that he wasn't part of this—that he was just as trapped by his family as I was by the lies that had been spun around me. But something in his eyes told me he wasn't telling me everything. There were still pieces missing, parts of the puzzle he was holding back.

But I didn't have time to dwell on it now. Not with the weight of his warning pressing down on me.

I started walking, my footsteps loud on the empty streets, my mind racing with questions I didn't have answers for. The town felt different tonight, darker, more suffocating. It was like the shadows themselves had come alive, creeping along the walls and sidewalks, watching, waiting.

As I passed the old post office, I heard a rustling sound behind me. I stopped, my heart pounding in my chest, and turned, scanning the street. The fog curled around the corners of the buildings, thick and impenetrable, but there was no one there. Just the empty street and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

I shook my head, forcing myself to keep walking. You're just being paranoid.

But the feeling wouldn't go away—the sense that I was being followed, that someone was watching. I picked up my pace, heading toward the Moonlight Inn, where the familiar, creaky door and musty smell felt like safety. If only for a moment.

The lobby of the inn was empty when I arrived, the dim light casting long shadows on the worn floorboards. Mrs. Layton must have already gone to bed. I hurried upstairs, my footsteps soft, and closed the door to my room behind me, locking it with a click that felt more symbolic than secure.

I leaned against the door, trying to catch my breath, trying to think.

Nathan had been lying to me for years. Evan's family controlled the town. And now, whoever was behind all of this knew I was here, asking questions—questions they didn't want answered.

I ran my hands through my hair, pacing the small room. What now? What was my next move?

My phone buzzed on the bed, and I glanced down, the screen glowing in the dim light.

Nathan.

I hesitated, my heart racing, but then I grabbed the phone, answering it.

"What do you want, Nathan?" I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

There was a pause on the other end, and then Nathan's voice, low and urgent, came through. "Cass, we need to talk."

"Talk? Now you want to talk?" I snapped, anger bubbling up inside me. "You've been lying to me this whole time, Nathan. What could you possibly have to say that I haven't already figured out?"

"I didn't lie to you," Nathan said, his voice strained. "I kept things from you to protect you. But I need to tell you the rest. Please."

I clenched my jaw, frustration boiling over. "I don't need your protection, Nathan. I needed the truth, and you couldn't give it to me."

"I'm trying now," he said, and I could hear the desperation in his voice. "Meet me at the docks. Thirty minutes. I'll explain everything."

I hesitated, my mind racing. The docks? At this hour? After everything I'd learned, it seemed too risky, too sudden. But something in Nathan's voice—something in the way he sounded—made me pause. He was scared.

"I don't know, Nathan—"

"Please, Cass. I'm trying to help you," he said, cutting me off. "I can't do this over the phone. Just meet me. Thirty minutes. The docks."

Before I could respond, the line went dead.

I stood there, staring at the phone in my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. Something wasn't right. Nathan sounded... off. Desperate. And if he was finally willing to tell me the truth, why now? What had changed?

I didn't trust him. Not after everything he'd kept from me. But I couldn't ignore the possibility that he might have answers. Answers I needed.

I grabbed my jacket and headed back out into the night.

The docks were as cold and unwelcoming as I remembered. The wooden planks creaked under my feet as I walked along the waterfront, the scent of salt and fish heavy in the air. The boats rocked gently in the water, their masts swaying in the wind, casting eerie shadows under the dim light of the streetlamps.

Nathan was nowhere to be seen.

I glanced around, my nerves on edge. The docks were empty, save for the occasional seagull perched on a lamppost or the distant sound of a boat's engine idling in the water. I checked my phone. Thirty minutes. I was on time.

I moved further down the pier, the wind whipping through my hair, my footsteps echoing in the silence. Something about the place felt wrong, like the shadows were too deep, the silence too still.

Then I saw him.

Nathan stood at the end of the pier, his back to me, staring out at the dark water. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He didn't turn as I approached, didn't acknowledge me at all.

"Nathan?" I called out, my voice wavering slightly.

He didn't respond.

I stopped a few feet away from him, my heart pounding in my chest. Something was off. His posture, his silence—it wasn't like him.

"Nathan," I said again, louder this time.

He turned slowly, his face pale and drawn in the weak light. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw the old Nathan—the one I used to trust, the one I thought was my friend.

But then his expression changed, his eyes narrowing with something that looked like regret.

"I'm sorry, Cass," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Before I could react, there was a sharp sound behind me—a rustling in the shadows. I spun around just in time to see a figure emerge from the darkness, their face hidden beneath a hood. My heart leaped into my throat, and before I could move, before I could even scream, something cold and hard pressed against my neck.

A voice—low, threatening—whispered in my ear.

"You should've stayed out of it."