Vanessa noticed the silence first. It was the kind that pressed too hard, the kind that usually sent Betty retreating indoors. When she looked toward the forest behind the house, her stomach tightened. Betty was walking past the fence line, farther than she had ever gone before.
Vanessa followed at a careful distance, afraid to call out too loudly. Betty’s world depended on order—on predictable sounds, fixed routines, and quiet spaces. Vanessa had spent years building those systems to keep her regulated. One sudden break could undo weeks of progress.
The forest had always been a boundary. Betty observed it from safety, never entering. That was why this felt wrong. Too calm. Too deliberate. As Betty stopped near the trees and tilted her head, listening, Vanessa saw a shape moving…