Deadly Past.

Quinn had been restless since she noticed Harrison’s shift in behavior. She could no longer ignore the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

So, when she spotted the man slipping into the darkness behind an abandoned house late that evening, she did the only thing she could think of. She followed him.

Overgrown bushes and trees cast shadows, and the house itself looked like it had not been lived in for years.

It sat in silence, covered in darkness, save for the faint glow of the moonlight.

She pushed through the rusted iron gate and made her way to the front door. It creaked open without resistance, as if welcoming her into its abode.

She stepped inside cautiously, eyes scanning every corner of the space, half expecting something or someone to jump out at her.

Jacob stood in the center of the room, his figure illuminated just enough by the light streaming down from the window. He turned, his eyes narrowing slightly as she approached.

“Quinn,” he greeted, his voice a low mu