The cabin was quiet, almost too quiet.
Liora stood in the kitchen, staring at the boiling kettle. Her hands shook slightly as she held the cup, but it wasn't fear. Not today. Today, she had slept a little more, eaten without being forced, and even laughed — softly — when Aeron had mumbled something about her tea-making skills being better than his cooking.
Aeron had stepped outside an hour ago, saying he needed firewood. She trusted him to come back now. That trust surprised even her.
She turned the kettle off, poured the water, and carried both mugs toward the small table near the window.
And then —knock knock knock.
The sound froze her in place.
Three knocks.
Not loud, but sharp.
She turned her head slowly. Her breath hitched.
The front door.
No one came here. No one should come here. Aeron didn't let anyone know where they were. She had no one who would look for her.
So who was knocking?
The hair on her arms rose, and the cup in her hand began to tremble.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Again. Same rhythm. Same cold, eerie calm behind it.
She placed the cups down with trembling hands and backed away.
Should she hide? Should she answer? Run?
Her feet wouldn't move fast enough. Her breath became shallow. Her past echoed in her head — the way fear used to pin her down like chains, heavy and invisible.
Her eyes darted to the window. A shadow moved outside.
Then—
The doorknob twisted.
Not once. Twice. Like someone testing it.
It was locked. Aeron always locked it.
"Liora," a voice whispered from behind the door.
Not Aeron.
Not even close.
It was raspy. Male. Slow. Like the sound of something rotting and smiling at the same time.
"I know you're in there, sweetheart."
Her heart stopped.
She backed away more, step by step, her eyes locked on the door. Her mind screamed where is Aeron, where is he—
"I waited a long time to find you," the voice continued.
Tears welled in her eyes, not from weakness — but because she knew that voice.
It wasn't a stranger.
It was him.
Her stepfather.
The monster.
The one she'd prayed never to see again. The one who had broken her into pieces for years while her mother stood by and called her a liar.
"No…" she whispered, voice cracking.
She felt like a child again. A helpless girl trapped in a body too small to protect itself.
"I missed your little screams," the man hissed through the door, tapping lightly against the wood now with something metallic. "You think you can hide forever? You think anyone cares about you? You're just a toy. You always were."
Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor, gasping.
The air in the cabin felt poisoned.
Bang. Bang. Bang.This time it wasn't knocking. It was pounding.
Liora curled her fingers into fists and tried to scream, but her throat was dry, her voice lost.
Then—CRACK.
The top of the wooden door splintered under pressure.
"No—no—no—" she whispered, crawling backward. Her back hit the wall, and she shut her eyes.
"Liora!"
Aeron.
The front door burst open from the outside, not in.
The man outside was flung backward with a force that sent him crashing onto the porch steps.
Aeron stepped inside, his eyes wild, his axe in one hand, blood on his shirt.
He didn't even look at Liora at first — he stormed toward the figure scrambling on the porch.
The man — her stepfather — tried to run, but Aeron caught him by the collar and slammed him face-first into the ground.
"You followed her?" Aeron growled. "You dared to touch my door?"
Liora watched, frozen, as the darkness in Aeron came back in full.
But this time, she wasn't afraid of him.
She was afraid for him.
"Aeron!" she shouted.
He stopped mid-swing, axe raised.
The man was coughing, blood dripping from his nose.
"Please…" Liora's voice cracked. "Don't… not like this…"
Aeron turned, chest heaving. His eyes locked on hers — and softened.
He didn't kill the man.
Not yet.
Instead, he dragged him away from the cabin, deeper into the woods, with one chilling warning: "If I ever see you near her again, I will not stop next time."
By the time Aeron returned, Liora was still sitting on the floor, shaking.
He kneeled beside her slowly, carefully.
"I'm here," he whispered.
She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. "He found me… he found me…"
"You're safe now," he promised, pulling her into his arms.
And for the first time in years, when Liora cried, it wasn't because she was broken.
It was because someone was finally there to catch the pieces.