Chapter 111

Olivia

The night was cool. A slight breeze rustled the trees overhead and an owl hooted somewhere far away, but other than that, it was dead silent.

Shadows played tricks on the eyes as the moonlight filtered through the dense forest canopy. My heart raced with every passing moment, waiting for any sign of Alvin.

We sat hidden in the underbrush outside Alvin's home, watching the front door like hawks. The small wooden house seemed eerie in the low light, its windows darkened and silent. I thought I saw his shadow pass by the window a few times, but he showed no signs of leaving.

Maybe we had put too much stock in assuming that he would continue coming out for his nightly escapades in the forest after we caught him the last time.

“He'll come out soon,” Nathan whispered, his breath misty in the cold night air.

I nodded in agreement, clutching my coat tighter around me. Angela, perched next to me, kept glancing towards the forest as if she could sense Alvin's movements. Levi was staring stalwartly into the darkness, waiting for the appearance of Alvin.

After what felt like hours, the front door finally creaked open.

Alvin emerged, his silhouette easily identifiable as he moved with a heavy, sorrowful gait. He paused momentarily, looking around as though he felt our gazes on him.

All four of us froze more than we already were, as though we became statues in the night, rooted to the ground by invisible roots.

His dark eyes scanned the treeline. For a moment, I thought for sure that they had landed on me. But then, with a sigh, he stepped off of the porch and proceeded to walk deeper into the woods. The sound of his footsteps in the grass faded, then eventually disappeared altogether.

He was gone.

“This is our chance,” Angela murmured, taking the lead as we quickly and quietly made our way into the house.

The interior was dark, only the faint glow of the moon providing any illumination. The house smelt of pine and aged wood, the air stagnant.

It was just as messy as it had been the other day, even more so now; the windows, I realized now, were covered in a fine layer of dust.

When was the last time that he even opened a window to let some fresh air into this place?

“Let’s split up,” I said, glancing around nervously in the darkness as I used my phone flashlight to illuminate the depressing little house. Angela and Nathan nodded.

We split up and began our relentless search of the little house. Nathan stayed downstairs, where he began searching through every cupboard, drawer, and under every piece of furniture.

Angela and I headed upstairs, where we went in opposite directions.

As minutes turned into what felt like hours, hope began to wane.

“There's no box here,” Nathan called out from a distant room, the frustration evident in his voice.

“Keep looking,” Angela replied, her voice echoing slightly as she checked the basement.

I was still upstairs. There was one room that I was hesitant to go into, but I knew that it had to be done: Alvin’s bedroom.

Slowly, I creaked open the heavy wooden door and peered inside. The room was dark, and as I panned my flashlight around, I could see now that it was oddly much cleaner than the rest of the house.

The bed was made perfectly, a testament to Alvin’s time spent in the military. The corners were straight and even, and the single pillow was flat and looked uncomfortable.

Beside the bed, on his dresser, he had various items laid out perfectly straight alongside one another; a watch, a notebook, a pair of glasses. There was a bottle of something on the dresser, too.

Curiously, I wandered up to it and took a closer look. It was liquor.

The liquor bottle, although depressing to see, wasn’t the most of my concern though. It was the leatherbound notebook that took my interest.

Curiosity piqued, I picked it up and began flipping through. The yellowed, wrinkled pages were filled with scribbled thoughts and musings.

As I read, the weight of Alvin's anguish became palpable.

One entry in particular caught my eye. My cheeks flared with heat as I read:

“Olivia's return to the pack was something I'd looked forward to for so long. Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined a world where she and I could be together. But those dreams shattered the moment I heard she chose Nathan over me. The pain, the despair, it's all too much."

My eyes widened. I read and reread the journal entry in disbelief, dated just a few days after I had returned to the pack.

Tears blurred my vision as guilt pierced my heart. Alvin had feelings for me, feelings I had been oblivious to. The depth of his despair now made more sense. How long had he felt this way? Why did he never tell me when we were younger?

But I couldn't share this with Nathan or Angela; it would only complicate matters further.

Quickly flipping through more pages, an older entry caught my attention:

“I couldn't bear to keep it in the house. My old hand, a stark reminder of what I've lost, of who I've become. I decided to bury the box near our old cabin, the place where we used to poke at honeycombs and play in the woods as kids. It seemed fitting, burying a piece of my past in a place filled with happier memories.”

This was it. The clue we needed.

I was about to call out to Nathan and Angela when I heard it: the unmistakable creak of the front door opening. A wave of panic washed over me.

“Guys!” I whispered sharply. “Someone's here!”

Both Angela and Nathan appeared at the doorway of the bedroom, their faces etched with fear.

“We need to hide,” Nathan murmured, glancing around the room.

Without hesitation, Angela darted into the adjoining closet. Nathan hid behind the thick curtains of the window, and I ducked under the bed, the cold wooden floor pressing against my cheek as my body screamed for sweet escape.

The sound of the footsteps began to march across the lower floor of the house. Each step, each creak in the old floorboards, was like a wrench in our guts.

I clamped my hand over my mouth and tried to steady my breathing, but it was difficult. After years of watching horror movies and making fun of the protagonists for breathing too heavily when they were supposed to be hiding from the killer, I now felt like one of them.

Each and every breath felt like a nail in my proverbial coffin.

What would Alvin do if he came up here and found us? Would he hate us forever? Would he feel betrayed? Would he… snap?

The footsteps grew louder. I felt my heart pounding so hard that I was certain that Alvin could hear it. He reached the stairs.

From where I lay beneath the bed, I caught a glimpse of Nathan’s wide eyes staring out at me from behind the curtains.

There was fear in Nathan’s eyes, but also a hint of bitterness. Bitterness for dragging my friends along on this dangerous mission, and there was no telling what Alvin would do if he found us here.

The footsteps were getting closer, and we were trapped.