Chapter 9: A knock at the Door

 Aaron sat on the edge of the bed, the worn wooden frame creaking under his weight. His elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped tightly together as he stared at the floor. The room was quiet, save for the occasional groan of the old house settling in the cold night.

 " Am I losing it?" he muttered.

 "Or do I just miss the city?"

 He hadn't heard a car in days. There were no sirens, chatter, or neon buzz—just wind, birds, creaking floorboards, and silence that pressed a little too hard. But he knew what he saw: a little boy, a barn that had shifted sides, and a woman in church whispering something no one else seemed to hear. He leaned back, rubbing his face. "I'm not crazy," he told himself again. I saw him." 

 Knock knock

 A sharp knock startled him. He stood, pausing before opening the door. Jacob stood there, coat on, hat in hand. "Thought you might want to step out," Jacob said. " Come with me to the bar. Clear your head a little."Aaron blinked. "You have a bar out here?" Jacob offered a quiet smile. " Not that kind. Just the old meeting hall. Some of the men gather there in the evenings. Share a drink. Talk about the week. Good place to settle your thoughts."

 Aaron hesitated, then nodded. " Yeah. I could use that." 

 The air was colder than earlier, a fog lay across the dirt path as they walked toward the village edge. The woods loomed darker than usual, like shadows stretched longer than they should. They approached a squat wooden building: plain, a little worn, but with warm lantern light flickering inside. As Jacob opened the door, laughter and conversation spilled out. The space inside was simple: a few long wooden tables, a stone hearth, and men gathered loosely around mugs and bottles.

 Aaron immediately recognized some of them- the men he'd helped cut wood with. "Hey!" one of them called out. " Look who's still standing!" The man raised his mug and grinned. "Come on, come join us! Let us introduce you to the rest of the crew!" Jacob gave Aaron a gentle nudge toward the group. They walked over together. The men made space on the bench and passed Aaron a tin mug that smelled strong and sharp.

 One man- Samuel, if Aaron remembered right - leaned in. "We were just talking about Ms. King's barn," he said. "Roof's about to cave in. Gonna take the whole weekend to fix it. " Another nodded. " That woman's barn is held together with prayer and spit. It's a miracle the cows haven't packed up and left." Laughter rippled through the group, and for a moment, Aaron smiled- the warmth of the fire and the drink settling his nerves. 

 Just as he was starting to relax, his eyes caught a hallway beyond the firelight, where a small shape stepped just into view. Child-sized, and still watching. Aaron stood up suddenly. " Excuse me," he muttered, setting the mug down. He stepped outside into the cold, scanning the tree line. The boy was there. Just beyond the path, half-concealed in the fog, was the same boy he remembered from the house.

 The one no one else seemed to acknowledge. Aaron moved quickly, boots crunching over frostbitten leaves, following the boy's small figure as it slipped into the woods. " Hey!" he called out. "Wait!" The boy didn't turn. Didn't run. Just kept walking. Aaronjoggerd after him, the trees closing around him, his breath sharp in his lungs. He wasn't even sure how far he'd gone before he stopped. " Aren't you...?" Aaron's voice faltered. He took a step forward. 

 A hand landed gently on his shoulder. Aaron spun, startled. Jacob stood behind him, calm but firm. "What are you doing out here?" he asked quietly. " The fun is inside. Are you sure you're okay?" Aaron looked back. The boy was gone.