Into The Silence

Chapter 3 – Into the Silence

The forest welcomed her like a coffin—dark, cold, and quiet.

Sapphire's robe clung to her like a second skin, soaked through from the rain. The storm overhead had become relentless, wind howling through the skeletal trees, leaves thrashing in the wind like frantic hands. She kept running, breath ragged, limbs burning, feet torn and bruised.

Her home—the place she'd grown up, the place where she'd last seen Lily alive—was now a smoldering grave behind her.

She didn't stop until she collapsed against the trunk of a pine tree deep within the woods. Mud caked her knees. Her hair stuck to her face. She leaned back, eyes darting in every direction.

No lights. No footsteps. No voices.

For now, she was alone.

She clutched the satchel to her chest, the pistol heavy against her hip. A part of her wanted to throw it away, to pretend none of this had happened. But that part was small now. Weak. Dying. Something else—colder, sharper—was taking its place.

She took out the burner phone. Her fingers, still trembling, entered the number her father had drilled into her memory years ago, masked as a contact named Uncle Lyle.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then a voice, calm and mechanical. "Secure line."

Sapphire whispered, "They're dead."

A pause. Then: "Confirmation?"

"They shot them. Mom and Dad. Lily…" Her voice broke. "I don't know. I think they took her."

Static hummed.

"Location?"

"I'm out. Woods behind the house. I have the drive."

Another pause. "Do not return to the house. Assume all access compromised."

"I wasn't going to."

"Coordinates incoming. Go now. They'll sweep the forest within the hour."

The call cut off.

A minute later, a single message appeared: a set of GPS coordinates and a phrase her mother once whispered in her sleep when she thought no one could hear: Find the architect.

Sapphire closed her eyes, letting the rain mask her tears.

What did it all mean?

Who had her sister?

And why did she know how to move like this?

She opened the satchel again, pulled out the flash drive, and studied it. Sleek, matte black. No label. No markings. It looked untraceable. Dangerous.

Like it belonged to someone who expected to never lose it.

She tucked it into her bra, close to her heart, and stood. Her legs ached. Every inch of her body protested. But the fear—the raw, searing fear—was no longer paralyzing.

It was fuel.

With the coordinates guiding her, she cut across the forest, navigating by memory and instinct. Her bare feet moved with caution, no longer just running—evading. Listening. Thinking.

By the time she saw the glimmer of lights in the distance—low, amber, carefully hidden—it was nearly dawn. The cabin was nestled between dense trees, almost invisible from above or afar. A sensor light flickered on as she approached, followed by a low mechanical click.

The door opened a crack.

A woman's voice, wary but firm: "Name?"

Sapphire answered without hesitation.

"I don't know my name."

The door opened wider.

The woman's face was half-hidden behind a scarf, but her eyes studied Sapphire carefully. Then she nodded once.

"Then you're exactly who we were waiting for."