Chapter 202 Someone’s There
Chapter 202 Someone’s There
The last lecture ended later than Piper expected.
Piper adjusted the strap of her backpack as she joined the slow stream of students leaving the main academic block.
Tucked safely inside was the journal.
She hadn’t opened it again.
Not once.
Even so, it refused to leave her thoughts.
Every time she blinked, Irene’s handwriting surfaced in her mind.
If anything happens to me… it won’t be an accident.
Her grip tightened around the strap before she caught herself.
“Stop it,” she muttered under her breath.
A pair of students walking ahead turned back briefly before continuing their conversation.
Piper looked away.
“It was just a journal,” she whispered to herself.
She repeated the words in her head as though saying them often enough would make them true.
It didn’t.
The more she tried not to think about it, the more she did think about it.
She exhaled slowly and forced herself to focus on the path ahead instead of the thoughts chasing each other through her mind.
Students gradually peeled away in different directions until the chatter around her began to disappear.
The familiar route home stretched ahead.
She had already made up her mind.
Tomorrow morning, she’d return the journal to Cecil.
No questions.
No excuses.
Whatever it contained wasn’t hers to keep.
Even if every instinct told her there was something important hidden inside it.
The breeze strengthened as she reached the bus stop line of the university.
The forest path to her home welcomed her with quiet.
She walked it often enough that she usually stopped paying attention after the first few minutes. Her feet knew every bend, every exposed root, every shallow dip in the trail.
Today, she noticed everything.
The scrape of branches brushing together overhead.
The wind weaving through the trees.
The distant song of a bird somewhere deeper in the woods.
Every sound seemed louder than it should have been and every shadow seemed darker.
Piper shifted her backpack higher on her shoulder.
“You’re overthinking this.”
Her own voice sounded strangely small beneath the trees.
She let out a slow breath.
“Just get home.”
The path curved gently around a cluster of old oaks before narrowing between thicker patches of woodland.
Normally she barely noticed the change.
Today it made her uneasy.
She wasn’t sure why. Nothing looked different and Nothing had changed.
Yet an uncomfortable feeling settled low in her stomach, refusing to leave.
Her wolf stirred beneath her skin with awareness. Piper slowed almost without realising it.
The silence around herdidn't feel empty, it felt wrong.
Then…
A sharp crack echoed somewhere off to her right. Piper froze.
Her heart skipped once.
She turned toward the trees, scanning the undergrowth between the trunks.
Nothing.
Only tangled bushes swaying gently in the breeze.
The scent of the trees made her unable to pick up any new scents.
She listened.
After several long seconds, she released the breath she’d been holding.
“It was a branch.”
She wasn’t entirely convinced.
Still, she forced herself to keep walking.
Her footsteps sounded unusually loud against the dirt path.
Her pace remained steady, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.
A few more steps.
The forest settled into silence once again.
Then, without warning, a bird burst from the branches overhead.
Its wings beat frantically through the leaves before it disappeared into the fading sky.
Piper jumped.
Her heart lurched against her ribs.
She looked around more carefully this time, her eyes moving from one shadow to the next.
Nothing.
Not a single person.
Not a single wolf.
Just trees stretching in every direction.
Her wolf stirred again.
Alert.
Piper swallowed.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered. “You’re letting the journal get into your head.”
The words sounded unconvincing even to her.
She adjusted the strap of her backpack again.
For some reason, the journal suddenly felt heavier than the books surrounding it, as though she were carrying far more than paper and leather.
The path narrowed as the trees grew thicker, allowing only thin ribbons of evening light to slip through the branches overhead. Long shadows stretched across the ground, shifting with every gust of wind.
Piper kept walking.
Don’t look back.
The thought came without warning.
She frowned.
Ridiculous.
Slowly, she peeked over her shoulder anyway.
The path behind her was empty so she faced forward again, forcing herself to laugh quietly.
“See? You’re imagining things.”
Even so, the uneasy feeling refused to leave.
It stayed at the edge of her instincts like a whisper she couldn’t quite hear.
Someone’s there.
She walked faster.
By the time the familiar outline of the house appeared through the trees, the sky had faded into soft evening light.
Warm yellow light spilt through the windows, pushing back the growing darkness around the forest.
Piper’s shoulders loosened a bit.
As she followed the last stretch of the path, the forest no longer felt quite as suffocating.
She reached the front door and rested one hand on the handle before looking back one last time.
The trees stood perfectly still.
Nothing moved between them.
Just the forest.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
Piper shook her head.
“Paranoid,” she muttered with a small, embarrassed smile.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Warm air greeted her instantly, carrying the familiar smell of dinner.
The outside world suddenly felt much farther away.
She locked the door behind her out of habit before slipping off her backpack.
From the kitchen, Sage called out, “Piper? Is that you?”
“Yeah,” Piper answered, setting her bag by the stairs.
“Dinner’s almost ready.”
“It smells amazing.”
Sage peeked around the corner, drying her hands on a kitchen towel.
“There you are.” She studied Piper’s face for a moment before frowning. “Long day?”
Piper hesitated.
“…Something like that.”
Sage raised an eyebrow.
“You look exhausted.”
“I just had a lot on my mind.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
Piper almost said yes.
The journal flashed through her thoughts again.
Irene’s name, but her mother clearly always avoided talking about Irene, Instead, she forced a small smile.
“It’s nothing.”
Sage didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“I know.”
Piper picked up her backpack and headed toward the stairs. As she passed the front window, something made her pause.
She looked outside.
The woods stretched silently beyond the glass.
Dark.
Still.
Empty.
After a few seconds, she looked away.
“I’m definitely imagining things.”
Outside, beyond the reach of the gate light, the darkness remained undisturbed.
Then
A single branch shifted.
Not from the wind.
From the weight that had just stepped off it.
Whoever had been standing among the trees turned silently and disappeared deeper into the forest.