KATHERINE

A small garden greeted me at the entrance, though the plants were sparse.

I lifted my head and took in the pitch-black darkness.

Only a few faint lights flickered from a nearby house. The distant hills were covered in trees, rustic wooden fences lined the dirt road that wove through the homes—life in the countryside.

In the midst of that darkness, a silhouette suddenly emerged.

The rickety front gate creaked open, and the figure walked up the stone path. It was Elliot.

"Rossella, why