“What’s our next move?” Maggy asked, her voice soft over the crackling fire.

  “We need to push inward,” Jason replied, staring into the fmes. “The boss is toward the center, and honestly, I wouldn’t mind getting out of this godforsaken nd.”

  Maggy nodded, though her expression was troubled. “I agree... I just don’t like the whispers I hear when we get close to the center.”

  Jason gnced at her, his face hardening slightly. “I know what you mean. The first creature I faced here was responsible for those whispers. They’re called Harrowers. They show you your worst memories, hoping to break your spirit.”

  Maggy’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Jason, I don’t know if I can... I’ve almost broken with those whispers.”

  "Here," Jason said, pulling off his hood and handing it to Maggy. "This should help. It won’t block everything, but it’s kept the worst of the whispers at bay." He hesitated before adding, "Back when I fought the first Harrower, something… snapped inside me. I don’t know what it was, but it broke their hold over me. I need to figure out what that was—and how to control it."

  Maggy looked at him, her eyes softening with concern. She could see the fear lingering in his gaze. "Jason… I don’t need to know every detail, but I can see what this is doing to you. You’ve been carrying this alone for too long. You don’t have to. If you ever need to talk, I’ll listen. No judgment. No pity. Just… someone to share the weight."

  Jason sighed, his shoulders sagging. He hadn’t talked about this in so long, and yet, for some reason, the words began spilling out before he could stop them.

  “I was seventeen when my sister and I lost our mother. She was all we had. Our father walked out years before she passed. I got a job and took care of us. It wasn’t easy, but we had each other, and that was enough.”

  Maggy listened quietly, watching the way his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles going white. He spoke in a steady voice, but there was something raw, something aching beneath his words.

  “I worked every extra shift I could get for months,” Jason continued, his voice growing distant. “I saved up, tried to make things normal for her. On her twelfth birthday, I took her to an amusement park. It was the happiest I’d seen her in years—ughing, running from ride to ride like a kid should. And for the first time since Mom died... I thought maybe things would be okay.”

  His breath hitched.

  “Then we went home.”

  Maggy’s heart pounded. He was getting close to something—something painful. But Jason didn’t look at her. His gaze was locked onto the fire, as if he could see something beyond it.

  “We had just started eating her birthday cake.” His voice was quieter now, each word slow, deliberate. “Then, the front door flung open. I told her to run to the closet. But that sound... the way the hinges creaked—I'll never forget it.”

  His hands were shaking now. His breathing turned shallow.

  Maggy’s stomach twisted. “Jason...”

  But he didn’t seem to hear her. His shoulders tensed, his jaw clenched, and his breath shuddered as if the weight of that night was pressing down on him all over again.

  “I—” Jason’s voice cracked. His fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into skin. He wanted to hold it in—to lock it away, like he always did. But the weight of it, the memory, it was too much. His chest ached, breath shallow. And then... it broke him.

  Maggy didn’t think. She moved.

  Maggy didn’t think. She moved. Her arms wrapped around him before her mind could catch up—before doubt could tell her to stop. But when he didn’t pull away, when his entire frame trembled against her, she knew she had done the right thing.

  His hands gripped her shirt tightly, his entire body shaking against hers. Ragged, uneven breaths turned into something deeper, uglier—a storm of emotions he had buried for years, now crashing over him with no way to stop it.

  Maggy said nothing. There was nothing to say.

  So she held him. And he let her.

  The fire crackled softly beside them. The night stretched on. Jason’s breathing, though still unsteady, slowed as exhaustion pulled at him. And Maggy simply stayed there, her presence the only thing grounding him to the world.

  Neither of them spoke. Not yet. The fire crackled, the weight of the night pressing on them both. Eventually, exhaustion won, pulling them into sleep—two souls resting in the quiet, no longer alone in the dark.