Void (The Youngest, Book 3.B.)

Chapter 十二 (B)

Scott and Lydia were sitting out in the waiting area with Agent McCall nearby, and Kylie sleeping peacefully in Melissa's arms. They all looked up when Sheriff Stilinski finally came out of the room, walking towards them with a weary expression.

"He's sleeping now," he said, his voice slightly strained. "And he's just fine." He gave a small grunt, almost like he was trying to convince himself. Both Scott and Lydia sighed with palpable relief.

"He doesn't remember much," the Sheriff continued. "It's all been like a dream to him." His gaze shifted, softening as it landed on Agent McCall. "Thank you," he added, his gratitude genuine.

Agent McCall shifted slightly, trying to downplay the moment. "It was that repellent we sprayed in the coyote den to keep other animals out. I couldn't go near it without my eyes watering. It was just... a good thing he mentioned it over the phone."

The Sheriff shook his head slightly, not willing to let the gratitude be brushed away so easily. "No, it was more than that," he said firmly. "Thank you."

McCall gave him a brief look, hesitant but touched. After a moment, he held out his good hand. "Accepted."

The Sheriff took his hand, and they exchanged a brief, sincere handshake before parting ways.

Melissa looked at Scott and Lydia, her eyes gentle but firm. "Alright, you two have school in less than six hours. Go home, get some sleep," she instructed, her motherly instincts kicking in.

"Okay," Scott nodded, leaning in to give his mother a quick hug and a gentle kiss on Kylie's forehead. He felt the weight of exhaustion pressing on him but knew they all needed to rest.

Lydia moved to follow him, glancing over at Scott with a troubled look. "I don't know what happened," she whispered. "I was so sure."

Scott's expression was just as tired. "Yeah, well, I wasn't much help either," he replied. He sighed, shoulders slumping a little. "It doesn't matter. They're okay." He gave her a reassuring smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Lydia paused, her expression suddenly distant. Scott recognized the way she stiffened, the way her eyes widened slightly—he knew that look all too well. "Lydia," he said softly, concerned. "Do you hear something?"

Lydia focused, her heart starting to race. There was something—faint but growing clearer—a sound like metal striking metal, rhythmic and persistent. The more she concentrated, the louder it became. It was a deafening clanging in her mind, sharp and insistent. Her eyes darted around, but she clenched her jaw and forced herself to look back at Scott.

The noise stopped. Lydia exhaled slowly, trying to shake it off. "No," she lied, shaking her head. Her frustration with herself was evident in her eyes. "I don't hear anything."

Scott frowned. He could hear the lie in her voice, hear the slight acceleration of her heartbeat. But he knew better than to push her right now. She was still angry—angry at herself, at everything that went wrong that night.

Scott nodded quietly, deciding to let it go, at least for now. He walked alongside her as they made their way out of the hospital, both weighed down by fatigue and unanswered questions.

The next day at school, Lydia stood beside Scott, but her mind seemed distant—almost like she was miles away from the bustling hallway. Every sound around her seemed magnified, each one vibrating uncomfortably in her ears. She actually flinched when someone slammed a locker shut right next to them.

"You okay?" Scott asked, concern in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Just a little hypersensitive to loud sounds today," she replied, forcing a weak smile. Almost immediately, she winced again as another locker door slammed shut across from them, her hands instinctively moving to her ears for a moment.