23

NO ONE POV

The night air bit at Jasmine's skin as she stepped out of the building, the glow of the flickering streetlamp casting long shadows behind her. Her hoodie did little to fight the chill, but she didn't complain. Not in front of Mason.

"All right, that's it for tonight," he said, unlocking his car. "C'mon. I'll drive you home."

Jasmine hesitated. Her hands curled into the sleeves of her hoodie. "No, it's fine. I can walk. It's not that far."

Mason turned to face her fully. "It's literally midnight. I'm not about to let a fifteen-year-old girl wander the streets alone. Too dangerous. Get in."

She hated that he was right. But more than that, she hated the thought of him seeing where she lived. Of seeing her mother passed out on the couch, or worse—screaming at shadows only she could see.

He wouldn't understand. And if he did... someone might take her away.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope. Let's go."

The car ride was quiet. Tense.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to her house. The porch light was out, as usual. The windows were dark.

Mason shifted in his seat, reaching for the door. "I'll walk you to the door."

"No, really—I've got it." She rushed to unbuckle her seatbelt. "It's not far."

"It's pitch black out here, Jasmine."

"I'll text you when I'm inside, okay?"

He didn't move. Just stared at her, reading her too easily.

"I'm walking you to the door."

She didn't argue again.

They walked up the cracked path toward the porch. That's when Mason stopped.

"Wait... why is the front door open?"

Jasmine's heart sank.

The doorknob swayed slightly, as if nudged by wind. But there was no wind.

"I—I don't know," she stammered. "Maybe my mom forgot to close it."

"Stay behind me," Mason said, voice low, alert.

As they stepped inside, Jasmine's breath caught.

The living room was destroyed. Couch cushions torn. Glass shattered. The TV was lying face-down on the floor. There were drag marks across the carpet.

"What the hell happened?" Mason whispered.

Jasmine's chest tightened. "My mom—"

And then they heard it.

A scream. Upstairs.

"LET ME GO! DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"Mom!" Jasmine cried.

Mason grabbed her arm. "Wait—don't go up there. We need to call the cops."

But Jasmine was already moving.

She ran up the stairs, her footsteps thunderous on the wood.

And crashed straight into a man in a black suit.

"Well, look what we have here."

She stumbled backward, trying to turn around—but his hand shot out and grabbed her by the jaw.

"No!" she cried, struggling. "Let me go!"

From the hallway, her mother's voice cracked like glass. "Don't touch her! I'll give you the money—please, just leave her alone!"