#Chapter 127: Devil at the Door

Sophia It was one of those night, the ones where everything felt like it was still. The cabin was quiet, save for the gentle crackling of the fire. I had a mug of tea in hand, the warmth seeping into my fingers as I stared out at the barren trees. My cheeks were still cool from my tears, but I had clamed down thanks to someone. Mark had gone off fishing again, that lug. So, it was just me and the silence, and maybe that’s why I jumped out of my skin when the shadow beside the fire seemed to morph into person—the shadow stretching out like he stepped through the blackness itself. My heart lurched in my chest, the mug in my hands almost slipping from my fingers as I nearly toppled out my chair. “Oh my god—!?” Standing there, was the face of someone I knew I remember but I didn’t know from where—uninvited, imposing, and way too calm for my liking. I froze for a split second, eyes widening. Wait… I did know him. When I was young, one of my father’s friends, until exile.