Back in town, Alex couldn't shake the weight of the key in his pocket. It felt like a ticking bomb, waiting for the right moment to explode. Clara, still shaken, refused to talk about what had happened in the woods, and Alex couldn’t blame her.
But as the days passed, he knew the shadows were still watching, waiting. The whispers had followed him home, soft and faint, but they were there—always in the back of his mind.
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