CHAPTER ONE: THE CALL

Chapter One: The Call

Luna couldn’t breathe.

Air scraped into her lungs in shallow, uneven bursts as she stumbled down the dark hallway. Her bare feet slapped against the cold floor, the sound far too loud in the silence of the house.

Behind her, a door slammed.

The sound shot through her like electricity.

Her heart lurched violently, pounding so hard it felt like it might tear through her ribs. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to move faster.

Don’t stop.

Don’t look back.

The hallway stretched ahead of her, dim and unfamiliar even though she had lived here for months. Shadows clung to the walls. The weak yellow light above the kitchen sink barely reached the corridor.

Her hand slammed into the wall as she turned the corner too fast.

Pain sparked through her palm, but she barely felt it.

All she could hear was the roaring in her ears and the pounding of her own heartbeat.

He was still in the house.

The thought twisted through her stomach like a knife.

Luna forced herself forward, nearly tripping over the edge of a loose rug as she rushed into the kitchen. Her fingers fumbled blindly across the counter until they closed around the one thing she had left there earlier that evening.

Her phone.

It almost slipped out of her shaking hands.

“Come on,” she whispered hoarsely, pressing the screen awake.

The bright light made her eyes sting.

Her reflection flashed faintly across the glass—wide hazel eyes, streaks of black hair falling loose around her face, makeup smudged and uneven. She barely recognized the girl staring back at her.

A floorboard creaked somewhere behind her.

Luna froze.

For a moment she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

The sound had come from the hallway.

Her entire body locked, every muscle tightening as if the house itself had suddenly become a trap.

Please no.

Her gaze drifted slowly toward the doorway.

The dark corridor stared back at her.

Empty.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

Her pulse hammered violently against her throat.

Move.

Now.

Luna snatched her jacket from the back of the chair without even putting it on properly and bolted for the back door.

The handle rattled violently as she yanked it open.

Cold night air rushed into the kitchen.

For a split second, she hesitated on the threshold.

The backyard stretched out in darkness, the faint glow of a distant streetlamp barely illuminating the fence line.

She didn’t care.

Anywhere was better than inside.

Luna ran.

The grass was damp beneath her feet, cold and uneven as she sprinted across the yard. Her lungs burned as she forced air into them, the icy wind cutting across her skin.

She didn’t stop until she reached the narrow gap between the fence and the neighbor’s shed.

Only then did she collapse against the wood, pressing herself into the shadows as if she could disappear completely.

Her entire body trembled.

Her hands were still gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

The silence outside felt almost unreal.

No shouting.

No footsteps.

Just the distant hum of traffic and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

But Luna’s heart refused to slow.

Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths as she tried to force herself to calm down.

You’re out.

You’re outside.

You’re safe.

The words didn’t feel real.

Her brain kept replaying the last few minutes in broken flashes she couldn’t fully piece together. Every time the memory tried to surface, her stomach twisted violently.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Don’t think about it.

Not now.

Her fingers tightened around the phone again.

For a moment she just stared at the screen.

Her contact list glowed softly in the darkness.

Names scrolled past as she swiped with trembling fingers.

People she barely knew.

People she couldn’t trust.

People who wouldn’t understand.

Her breathing hitched.

There was only one person she could call.

Only one person who had ever made her feel safe.

Her thumb hovered over the familiar name.

Henry.

The letters blurred as tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

For a moment doubt crept into her mind.

What if he didn’t answer?

What if she was bothering him?

What if—

The back door of the house creaked open.

Luna’s head snapped up.

Her entire body went rigid.

A shadow moved across the faint glow spilling from the kitchen window.

Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.

No more hesitation.

Her thumb pressed down on the screen.

The phone lifted slowly to her ear as the call began to ring.

Once.

Twice.

Luna squeezed her eyes shut.

“Please answer,” she whispered.

The phone rang.

Luna pressed it harder against her ear as if that might somehow make him answer faster. Her back was still pressed against the rough wooden fence, the cold seeping through her clothes as the night air wrapped around her.

Her whole body trembled.

Once.

Twice.

Her breathing came in uneven bursts that fogged faintly in the cold.

“Please,” she whispered.

The ringing clicked off.

“Hey, Lu—”

Henry’s voice cut through the darkness, warm and familiar, and something inside Luna cracked.

For a moment she couldn’t speak.

The words sat in her throat like broken glass.

“Luna?”

His tone changed immediately.

Not playful anymore.

Sharp. Alert.

“Lu, what’s wrong?”

Her mouth opened, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to force her lungs to cooperate.

“Hen…”

The word barely made it out.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, only a second long.

But Luna knew him well enough to hear the shift instantly.

The moment he understood something was very, very wrong.

“Luna,” Henry said quietly. “Talk to me.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

“I—I can’t…” Her voice broke before she could finish the sentence.

A tear slipped down her cheek, cold against her skin.

Across the street, headlights passed slowly along the road, the faint beam sweeping across the yard before disappearing again.

Everything suddenly felt too big. Too loud.

Too real.

“Hey,” Henry said softly.

His voice dropped into the tone he used whenever she was spiraling.

Calm. Steady.

Grounding.

“Lu, breathe for me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Inhale.

Exhale.

It didn’t work.

Her chest kept tightening like invisible hands were wrapped around her ribs.

“I need—” Her voice cracked again. “I need you.”

The words came out in a broken whisper.

There was no hesitation on the other end of the line.

“Okay.”

Just that one word.

Simple. Certain.

Luna swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep going before the panic swallowed her completely.

“I—I had to leave,” she stammered. “I ran.”

Henry didn’t interrupt.

He never interrupted when she was struggling to speak.

The silence on the line wasn’t empty.

It was listening.

“Where are you right now?” he asked gently.

Luna lifted her head, glancing around the dark backyard. The house loomed behind her, the kitchen light still faintly glowing through the window.

“I’m outside,” she whispered. “Behind the house.”

“Are you hurt?”

The question hit her like a punch.

Her throat tightened.

“I don’t know.”

Another pause.

This one heavier.

Luna could almost hear the thoughts racing through his mind.

“Okay,” Henry said finally, his voice still calm but tighter now. “Are you safe right now?”

She glanced toward the back door again.

It was closed.

But that didn’t mean anything.

“I think so,” she whispered.

Think.

Not know.

Henry exhaled slowly.

“Listen to me,” he said.

His tone changed again.

Not just calm now.

Focused.

“Stay where you are.”

Luna’s fingers trembled.

“Henry—”

“I’m coming to get you.”

Her breath caught.

“You don’t—”

“I’m already grabbing my keys.”

The sound of movement echoed faintly through the phone.

A door opening somewhere on his end.

Footsteps.

Luna pressed her forehead against the fence, relief flooding through her so suddenly it made her dizzy.

“You don’t have to—” she tried again weakly.

“Lu.”

Her name stopped her instantly.

His voice wasn’t angry.

Just firm.

“You called me.”

That was all he said.

But Luna understood the meaning behind it.

Of course he was coming.

The wind rustled softly through the trees above her.

For the first time since she ran out of the house, Luna felt the tiniest flicker of something that wasn’t panic.

Hope.

“Stay on the phone with me,” Henry said.

“I will.”

“I mean it,” he added. “Don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.”

A car door slammed faintly through the phone.

Then the rumble of an engine starting.

Luna hugged her knees closer to her chest, curling slightly against the fence as the sound reached her.

“You’re driving?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Henry—”

“Luna.”

His voice softened again.

“I’m coming.”

The certainty in those words made her throat tighten all over again.

She stared out into the dark yard, watching the faint glow of the house behind her.

“You don’t have to hurry,” she murmured.

There was a small pause.

Then Henry let out a quiet breath.

“I’m already speeding.”

Despite everything, a weak sound escaped her that might have been the beginning of a laugh.

Trust him to admit that.

Her eyes drifted back toward the house again.

The back door still hadn’t opened.

But the fear hadn’t left.

Not completely.

“How long?” she asked.

“Ten minutes,” Henry said.

It would probably be closer to fifteen.

They both knew that.

But Luna didn’t argue.

She nodded faintly even though he couldn’t see her.

“Okay.”

The line went quiet for a moment, filled only with the soft hum of his car and her uneven breathing.

Then Henry spoke again.

“Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m almost there.”

Luna pressed the phone tighter against her ear.

And for the first time since she ran from the house—

She believed him.

She hugged the phone closer, pressing it against her cheek as if the warmth of his voice could seep through the line and wrap around her like a blanket. The wind whispered through the trees, tugging at the loose strands of her hair, and the cold seeped into her bones, but she hardly noticed. Her focus was entirely on the soft hum of the engine, the steady rhythm of Henry moving toward her.

Every rustle of leaves made her jump. Every faint sound—a distant dog barking, a car door shutting—made her flinch, her body coiling tighter against the fence. She tried to tell herself she was safe, that she had escaped, but the memory of the slammed door, the heavy footsteps chasing her down the hallway, refused to loosen its grip on her.

“Ten minutes,” she whispered to herself, tasting the words as if saying them out loud would make them true. Ten minutes, and he’d be here. She focused on that. Only that.

Her knees trembled beneath her, and she pressed her forehead harder against the rough wood of the fence, trying to ground herself, trying to slow her racing thoughts. Her breathing was still uneven, shallow bursts that fogged the screen of her phone. She forced herself to inhale, then exhale, imagining Henry’s voice guiding her through it, steady and calm.

She thought about calling him by his full name, about explaining everything, about begging him to understand—but the words felt too heavy. They wouldn’t come out. All she could do was wait. Just wait.

Minutes stretched and folded in on themselves. Every passing car made her pulse spike. She flinched at every shadow, every shift of the night air, imagining him—or worse, someone else—lurking in the dark. Her phone screen glowed faintly in her hands, illuminating the tear streaks on her face and the wild streaks of hair plastered to her cheeks.

Her fingers tightened around the device, nails digging into the plastic, and she whispered his name again. “Henry…” The sound barely carried over the wind, but saying it made her chest ache less. Somehow, his presence on the line, even miles away, tethered her to the world, kept her from dissolving completely into panic.

She shifted slightly, pressing herself lower into the shadows, listening. Listening for the engine, for any sign of him. Every minute felt like a lifetime. She counted silently, not wanting to glance at the clock, not wanting the cruel reminder that time was passing and she was still out here alone.

The cold had started to bite deeper now, creeping into her shoulders and down her arms. She hugged herself instinctively, rocking just slightly as if that motion could squeeze the fear out of her. Her eyes kept darting toward the back door of the house, expecting it to open at any moment, expecting danger to spill into the yard again.

But there was nothing. Only the faint glow of distant streetlights and the distant hum of traffic, and the soft, steady reassurance of his voice in her ear.

“I’m almost there,” he said again. The words were soft, careful, but they carried weight she could feel vibrating in her chest. Almost. She could almost reach out and touch him, almost safe.

Her fingers shook, still gripping the phone so tightly she feared she might break it, and she pressed it against her lips for a moment. She whispered, almost to herself, “Please, hurry…”

Somewhere in the darkness, a leaf skittered across the ground. She flinched and held her breath, waiting for something terrible to emerge, but only silence answered. She let out a trembling sigh and hugged her knees closer to her chest.

Every part of her wanted to run again, wanted to escape further into the night, but she couldn’t. She had nowhere to go. Only here. Only waiting. Only him.

And so she waited. Counting seconds she couldn’t measure, feeling minutes stretch into eternities. Her limbs were stiff, cold, trembling, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. She could only listen. Only cling to his voice, the lifeline that tethered her to something solid in the chaos of her fear.

The headlights of a passing car caught the edge of the fence, making the shadows dance across her face. She flinched, heart hammering. Another car, another flash, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Her stomach knotted with tension, and tears blurred her vision. She wanted to cry, to scream, to run again, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. All she could do was hold on. Hold the phone, hold his voice, hold the fragile thread of hope he had promised would lead him to her.

Every sound in the night made her pulse spike—the whisper of the wind, the distant rumble of tires, a branch scraping against the fence. But she imagined his hands on the wheel, steady, precise, bringing himself closer to her. Almost.

Her body shivered violently, not from cold, but from the fear and exhaustion mingling together, and she pressed the phone harder to her ear, whispering again, “Henry…”

The phone hummed softly. And then—a faint crunch of gravel. Her head shot up, wide-eyed, heart leaping violently.

She froze.

A pair of headlights turned onto the street.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Almost there.

Luna pressed the phone tighter against her ear, feeling the vibration of his voice even through the faint static.

“I’m almost there,” Henry said again.

She swallowed hard, nodding even though he couldn’t see her. “Okay… I—I’m still here.”

“You’re doing well,” he said softly. “Just stay there, don’t move. Don’t peek. Just stay where I can see you when I get there.”

“I can’t stop shaking,” she admitted, voice small. “My hands… my knees…”

“Hey, look at me,” he said gently, though all she could do was imagine him. “Not literally, but hear me. Focus on my voice. Breathe with me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m trying…”

“Inhale… now exhale. Slowly. I’m still on the line. You’re not alone, Lu. Not for a second.”

Her chest tightened, but she followed his words, trying to match her ragged breaths with his calm, steady rhythm. The night pressed down around her—dark, cold, silent except for the wind and the distant hum of the street—but Henry’s voice anchored her.

“Henry… what if he—” She stopped herself. The thought of the person still in the house, the memory of the slammed door and heavy footsteps, made her stomach twist violently.

“I’m coming,” he interrupted firmly. “Nothing’s going to touch you. Do you hear me?”

“Yes…” she whispered. Her voice trembled. “I— I hope so.”

“You’re safe,” he said, though she knew he meant he would make sure she would be. “I’m not far. I can see the street now. Just hold on a little longer.”

She pressed her forehead against the fence, shivering. “It feels like forever,” she admitted.

“It’s almost over,” he said. “I’m counting down the seconds with you.”

She let out a shaky laugh, more like a sob buried under relief. “You always make it sound so… so easy.”

“I don’t care about easy,” he said quickly, almost sharply. Then softer: “I care about you. That’s it. That’s all that matters.”

Her breath hitched. “You… always say that.”

“Because it’s true,” he said. “Every time, Lu. Every single time. I mean it.”

She hugged her knees tighter, pressing herself into the shadows. “I… I feel like such a mess.”

“You’re not,” he said immediately. “Not a mess. You’re scared, okay? That’s normal. That doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human.”

She blinked back tears. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about… everything. The house. The… him. What if he—”

“No,” Henry cut in, sharp this time. “Don’t let your mind go there. Not now. You made it out. That’s what matters. Right now, I’m coming for you. That’s all that matters.”

She nodded against the phone, even though he couldn’t see her. “I know… I know you are.”

“Good. Keep breathing. In… out… in… out… just like that.”

Her body shook violently as she tried to follow along. Every rustle of the leaves, every distant car, every shadow that moved across the yard made her flinch.

“Henry… what if he sees me?” Her voice was barely audible.

“Then I’ll handle it,” he said calmly. “Just stay in the shadows. Don’t move. Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I hear you.”

“I’m almost there,” he repeated, and somehow the words carried more weight each time. “I see the street. I can see the lamps. I’m coming for you.”

She pressed the phone harder to her cheek. “I—I can’t… I feel like I’m going to…” She swallowed hard, trying not to let herself break completely.

“You’re okay,” he said softly. “I’m right here. Right here. I’ve got you.”

The night stretched, the silence pressing against her even as Henry’s voice kept her anchored. Her teeth chattered, not just from cold but from the tension that wouldn’t leave her body.

“Henry… tell me something,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Tell me… tell me I’ll be okay.”

“You will,” he said firmly. “I’m coming. You’ll be okay because I’ll be there in seconds. No one’s touching you, no one’s scaring you, not while I’m coming. That’s a promise.”

Her stomach knotted at the certainty in his voice, and for the first time in hours, she let herself believe it. Just a little.

“Henry… what if I scream when you get here?”

He chuckled softly, low and comforting. “Then scream. Scream, cry, whatever you need. I’ll be there. I can handle it.”

“I… I just—” Her words broke, and she pressed the phone against her chest. “I just want it to be over.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I know. It will be. Very soon. Keep your eyes on the glow from the streetlamp. That’s where I’ll come from. That’s where you’ll see me first. Stay put, okay?”

She nodded again. “Okay… I will.”

“Good. That’s my girl. Almost there…”

She clutched the phone so tightly her fingers hurt, leaning against the fence as if the wood itself could keep her safe until he arrived. “Henry… I—”

“Shh,” he said softly. “No more talking. Focus. Just focus on breathing, on staying safe, on listening for me.”

She did. She pressed herself lower into the shadows, inhaled, exhaled, and waited.

Every set of headlights in the distance made her heart leap. Every car, every rustle, made her flinch. And then, finally, the unmistakable sound of gravel under tires—the crunch of rubber against the edge of the street.

Her head shot up, eyes wide.

“Henry?” she whispered, voice trembling.

“Yes,” he said, quiPerfect! That detail works beautifully to heighten Henry’s determination—he has no one else, no backup, and Luna is everything in that moment. I’ll adjust the scene slightly to reflect that while keeping it flowing from where we left off, cinematic and dialogue-heavy.

The wind tugged at the loose strands of Luna’s hair as she pressed herself against the window frame. She could hear Henry below, shifting his weight in the grass, peering up at the tree that leaned toward her room.

“I’m coming in,” he called softly. “Hold still. I’ve got you.”

Her eyes widened. “Henry… it’s too high! You shouldn’t—”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said, voice calm but firm. “I’m an only sibling, remember? No one else to call. I’ve got to do this myself.”

Her breath hitched. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, looking up at her with a faint, crooked smile. “But you’re worth it.”

She bit back a sob, gripping the sill tighter as he reached the first branch. “Be careful! It’s slippery, the wind—”

“I’ve got strong hands, and I’ve been practicing climbing,” he said, one hand on the bark, the other reaching higher. “Mostly to annoy people, but it counts now.”

Luna shivered, part cold, part fear, part relief. “Henry… you’re ridiculous. Don’t fall.”

“I won’t,” he called back. “I’ve got you, Lu. That’s all that matters.”

One careful step at a time, he inched up the leaning tree, the bark scraping against his palms, leaves brushing the window frame. Luna reached down instinctively, fingers trembling, and he caught them, letting her guide him just enough to steady his balance.

“Almost there,” he murmured, stretching a hand toward the window.

“Quickly…” she whispered, voice cracking.

“Here,” he said, and with a final push and a careful twist, he swung his leg inside the room. His other hand followed, gripping the sill. He landed lightly beside her, solid and real, and she immediately collapsed against him, trembling violently.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing her close. “You’re safe. I promise.”

She clung to him, tears soaking his shirt. “I… I thought I was done for. I didn’t… I didn’t think anyone could help me.”

“You’re okay,” he said firmly. “I’m here. No one else matters right now.”

Her chest heaved as sobs wracked her body. “Henry… I… I need to tell you something bad.”

He cupped her face gently, searching her eyes. “I’m listening, Lu. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

She pressed her forehead to his chest, voice trembling. “I… I didn’t mean for it to happen… but I need to tell you.”

Henry nodded, silent, steady. “Then tell me. We’ll face it together.”

“I… I need to tell you something… bad,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper, her whole body trembling against him.

Henry held her tighter. “Then tell me, Lu. I’m not going anywhere.”

The room felt impossibly still except for their ragged breathing, the wind outside, and the sound of the leaves brushing the glass.

And in that moment, Luna knew: whatever came next, she wouldn’t face it alone. But the words on the tip of her tongue felt heavier than the night itself.

Enter this time, closer. “I’m here. I see you.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone. She barely breathed.

The car headlights cut across the yard, sweeping over her crouched figure, and for the first time since she ran, Luna felt… almost safe.