Zayden walked back into the kitchen, the door creaking behind him as he stepped into the familiar but empty space. He stood there, staring at the two untouched plates on the table with steam rising from the omelets. The smell of the warm eggs mixed with fresh coffee filled the cabin, but it did little to lift his spirits. The place felt empty. It was too quiet, too still. It was as if the room itself knew she was gone.

He took a shaky breath and sat down at the small wooden table. The chair across from him was empty, the same one she had used yesterday and the day before, sitting there awkward and tense as she tried to eat without making a sound. He remembered how her fingers nervously played with the napkin, her eyes darting around the room, always avoiding his gaze like she wasn’t sure she belonged there.

Now, that empty chair felt like a judgment.

He reached for his fork but stopped halfway, his gaze drifting back to her untouched plate and the mug he had carefully filled just for her, because she liked her coffee a certain way: not too strong or sweet, just warm enough.

It’s funny how you notice those little things when someone unexpectedly becomes important to you. He swallowed hard, feeling his jaw tighten. This is ridiculous, he thought. "You barely know her. She was just a girl you saved, and now she’s gone."

But why did the cabin feel so much colder without her? Why did the silence feel suffocating? Why did the idea of her walking alone in the woods twist something in his gut?

He forced himself to take a bite of his omelet, but it felt dry even though it was cooked just right. Every chew felt heavy and automatic. He took a sip of his coffee, but even that tasted off. He couldn’t help glancing back at her plate, the soft steam from the omelet left uneaten, the mug full for someone who wasn’t there. With a long sigh, he ate in silence.

Every few minutes, he looked at the door, half-hoping she’d walk back in. But she didn’t. She wasn’t coming back. The forest had swallowed her up, and she’d chosen it over him.

When he finally forced himself to finish eating, he pushed his chair back and stood up slowly, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor.

He gathered the plates and mugs, his hand hovering over hers longer than it should have, tracing his thumb along the rim of her mug, still warm from where she should have been sitting.

Zayden shut his eyes for a moment.

"Idiot," he muttered quietly, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was talking about.

He walked over to the sink and turned on the tap, the sound of running water cutting through the quiet. He started washing the dishes, taking his time with each one. First the plates, then the forks, and the mugs followed. He tackled the pan, scrubbing it hard, rinsed it off, and dried it with the towel she had used just the day before.

Every move he made was careful and intentional, like he was trying to distract himself from his feelings by focusing on something real.

But even then... her absence felt like a chill settling under his skin, sharp and biting.

Once the dishes were all clean and put away, he stood there for a sec, gripping the counter’s edge. His mind was racing again. He needed some answers, something to grab onto besides the ache in his chest that wouldn’t quit.

Turning around, he headed to the living room and grabbed his phone from the coffee table where he’d left it. His thumb hovered over Leo’s name for a second. Taking a deep breath, he hit Call.

The phone rang once. Then twice.

Finally, Leo picked up, his voice still groggy but sharpening as he sensed Zayden’s silence. "What happened?"

Zayden swallowed hard. For a moment, he struggled to find the words. Finally, he got the truth out, even with his throat tightening. "She’s gone."

A beat of silence filled the space.

"Gone how?" Leo asked, his voice shifting to a more serious tone. "Gone as in... she stepped outside? Or gone as in missing?"

Zayden ran a hand through his hair and looked out the window at the trees gently swaying in the morning breeze.

"She took off," he said, his voice cracking just a bit. "She left in the middle of the night. Or really early morning. I can’t be sure." He cleared his throat. "She didn’t take anything with her. No food, no water. Nothing."

Another pause stretched out, thick with doubt.

Then Leo’s tone got serious. "Are you really sure she left on her own? Did you see any signs of a fight? A broken window? Footprints outside? Anything at all?"

"No," Zayden shot back, frustration creeping into his voice. "No one came into the cabin. Last night, right before I went to bed, I made sure to lock everything up. Front door, back door, windows, everything was locked tight." He stopped for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "The doors are just how I left them. No marks. No force. No tracks. No sign of anyone being here."

"And what about the girl?"

"She just opened the front door and walked out. By herself."

Leo let out a deep breath."You sound pretty sure about that."

"I am." Zayden gripped the phone tighter as he paced slowly.

"Leo, if someone tried to grab her, I would’ve picked up on it. A struggle. A noise. Something to show she fought back. But the cabin was silent. Too silent, really. The way she left..." He inhaled sharply. "She covered her tracks perfectly."

"That doesn’t sound like someone who panicked," Leo said quietly. "That sounds like she knows what she’s doing."

Zayden stopped moving. His heart sank. He had been thinking along the same lines, every survival instinct she had, every little sound she reacted to, how she moved in the shadows, her quiet footsteps, the way she never got close to the windows...