Chapter 5 The New Sanctuary

The jolt of the car slowing down dragged me out of a shallow, fuzzy slumber. I couldn’t even remember falling asleep on the two-hour drive, though my bones still ached with the heavy exhaustion of a night spent dodging ghosts and shadows.

Outside the tinted window, the landscape had completely transformed. The claustrophobic grey concrete of the city was gone, replaced by endless rows of towering trees and sweeping, emerald hills in the distance that made the afternoon sun look like a masterclass in lighting. The air itself felt different, thicker with the raw scent of damp earth, cut grass, and open space. It was suffocatingly quiet. A stillness so absolute it made my skin prickle. I couldn’t decide whether it terrified me or calmed me down, but as I sat up, I knew one thing: I loved it. I was ready to see what this hidden corner of the world had buried for me.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Noah’s voice cut through my thoughts. She glanced back at me through the rear-view mirror, a soft, teasing smile playing on her lips as she tried to read my expression.

“How far out are we?” I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Almost there. Just another five or ten minutes. You crashed the entire way, but I’m not judging, I know you barely closed your eyes last night.”

I stared out the window for a moment, listening to the hum of the tires against the changing road. “Do you think I’ll be okay?”

The question slipped out before I could cage it. In the mirror, Noah’s eyes sharpened instantly, shifting from playful friend to tactical observer as she tried to trace where that sudden vulnerability came from.

“You’re a strong woman, Maddie,” she said, her voice firm and grounding. “A go-getter. You don’t let things knock you down. Who cares if it’s a ranch town? You’re Maddie. You’ve made it through a hell of a lot worse. Surely a little country air isn’t going to scare you.”

She let out a light laugh at the end, and I rolled my eyes, sinking back against the seat. Damn her. This was the curse of having a best friend who knew your soul inside and out. She could spot my armour cracking from a mile away.

Truth was, I was scared. Not of the danger, I could handle the ghosts and monsters in my past, but of the raw, unfamiliar quiet. I was a city girl through and through, born and raised on concrete and sirens. Pulling up roots and planting them in the middle of nowhere felt like walking blindfolded across a tightrope. But I kept it to myself, turning my face back to the window to watch the scenery roll by.

It genuinely looked like a ghost town. We hadn’t passed a single soul on the approach, just rolling hills and empty stretches of pasture. But then, as we turned down a narrow gravel path, the landscape opened up.

The moving truck carrying my life’s belongings rumbled to a halt a few yards ahead of us. The gravel driveway gave way to an old, shared path of cracked river-stones, deeply grooved by decades of heavy tractor tires and farm machinery. Noah pulled her car to a stop, cutting the engine.

The sudden silence was absolute, broken only by the dry whisper of wind brushing through the ancient, towering acacia trees.

Before us sat a house that completely shattered any stereotype of a run-down rural cabin. It was a stately, double-structure built from rough-hewn volcanic stone, its masonry stained a rich, earthen bronze by years of highland rains. Deep, gabled roofs of weathered cedar shingles cut sharp angles against the crisp blue sky. Thick, muscular tendrils of dark green ivy crawled aggressively up the facade, swallowing the lower stone blocks entirely and framing the multi-paned glass windows like living velvet. A massive brick chimney rose up the side, breathing a faint, nostalgic scent of burning cedar into the cool afternoon air.

What struck me most, however, was the uncanny layout. There were no harsh property lines, no ugly chain-link fences or metal gates slicing up the land between me and whatever neighbours I had. The perimeter fence posts sat far out at the distant edges of the property, making the two adjacent homes look like a single, unified estate.

A sprawling, emerald-green lawn rolled seamlessly outward. And sitting just across that unblemished sea of grass, positioned at a deliberate angle, was the neighbouring house.

It was entirely independent, its own heavy timber entryway and distinct architecture, yet it felt tethered to mine, like a sibling sharing the same sprawling room. A gravel pathway split the lawn into a loose “Y,” looping around a centrepiece of vibrant, bursting magenta bougainvillea bushes that served as the only real boundary between us. Standing on the front porch, I realized with a jolt that I could easily see right into parts of his windows if the lamps were lit. So much for absolute privacy.

I stepped out of the car, lifting my face to the sun and letting out a long, slow breath as I inhaled the fresh highland air. It felt clean. Untainted. Worlds away from the shattered glass and police tape of my old apartment.

Noah stepped up beside me, folding her arms across her chest; her classic, go-to commanding posture that always made me chuckle internally.

“I guess this works, huh?” Noah murmured, scanning the estate with wide eyes. “Damn, Maddie. This place is amazing.”

“I’m finding that out right now,” I said, a genuine smile breaking across my face as I turned to her. “I love it. This will do.”

Feeling a sudden surge of lightness, I did a little half-hop on the spot, spinning around like an overly excited kid outside a candy store.

“You are completely impossible,” Noah laughed, shaking her head before turning her attention back toward the moving crew to coordinate the unloading. Thank God for her; she was the organized mastermind of our duo. If it were up to me, the boxes would sit stacked in the dirt for a week while I unpacked my books first.

As I stood there taking in the courtyard, a sharp voice cut through the afternoon quiet from behind me.

“I presume you’re Madeline?”

I spun around to find an elderly woman standing near the garden path. She was short, her face surprisingly smooth with very few wrinkles, though her eyes held a sharp, knowing depth beneath a crown of soft grey-white hair. Despite her age, she stood remarkably upright, radiating an energy much stronger than her frame suggested. Even now, you could trace the classic symmetry of her features; she must have been an absolute knockout in her youth, the kind of woman men fought over.

I immediately extended a polite hand, stepping forward. “That’s me.”

She grasped my hand with surprising warmth, her gaze sweeping over me with intense, analytical curiosity. “It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name. And I must say, you’re quite the beauty yourself.”

I felt a sudden, awkward flush warm my cheeks. “Thank you. I... uh, appreciate that.”

Sensing my slight stiffness, she smoothly pivoted the conversation. “Well, as I was saying, I manage most of the properties around here and rent a few out to newcomers. Most of these houses belonged to my late husband and me, but seeing as I’m getting on in years and have no grandchildren running around, I like to keep them occupied. Did you manage to look around? Is anything not to your liking?”

“No, everything’s wonderful,” I replied, forcing a polite smile. “I was just stretching my legs after a terribly long drive.”

“Ah, I understand. The bumpy backroads can do that to you, but this spot here is a gem. You’re quite lucky to land it,” she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “This is the only place with a shared compound. You and your neighbour share this whole clearing. I just hope you two get along. He’s quite the loner. Maybe having a vibrant young woman around will finally shake him out of his shell, he’s been here quite a while.”

My brows lifted. “I’m sorry... did you say he?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?” she teased, her lips twitching.

I let out a weak, awkward little laugh. “Oh, no. Not at all. Just wanted to make sure I heard you right.”

Of course there is, the least thing I need right now is a distraction and how safe am I being in close proximity with a man I barely know not to talk of his character, what if he’s a stalker or worse a murderer but I can’t obviously tell her that. I guess I’ll have to be more careful than I thought.

She leaned in slightly, her eyes glinting with amusement as if she could read right through my casual exterior. “Not to worry, dear. He’s a complete gentleman. And he’s quite the catch, too, I’m sure you’ll like him. If I were fifty years younger, I’d park myself on his porch until he noticed me. Just wait until you get a good look at him.”

I felt my face burn bright red. “Right. Well... I really just need a quiet place to work, so I doubt...”

“Oh, speaking of the devil, there he is now,” she whispered excitedly.

I froze, staring at the old woman in sheer disbelief. Was she seriously standing here openly salivating and blushing over a younger neighbour like a schoolgirl?

I whipped my head around toward the path leading to the adjacent house, my curiosity instantly peaking.

The figure walking down the gravel path was striking. He wore a long, dark winter coat that swept around his calves with heavy, deliberate strides. I couldn’t see his face clearly from this angle, just sharp, uncompromising side profiles. His hair was strikingly light, almost stark white or a very pale silver, pulled back and secured in a slightly messy, low ponytail at the nape of his neck. There was an effortless, commanding grace to the way he moved; fluid and dangerous, like a prince straight out of a movie or even better, a dark fantasy novel.

Okay, I thought, I kind of see why the old lady was losing her mind.

I turned back to look at her, a teasing smirk on my lips ready to cut through her obvious fantasies. “Shall we keep moving?”

She blinked, snapping out of her daze and letting out a flustered giggle. “Oh! Of course, dear, right this way.” She hurried ahead, acting as though she hadn’t just been caught daydreaming about the local hermit.

Amused, I took one last glance over my shoulder to catch another glimpse of the mysterious neighbour, watching as he turned the corner toward his side of the estate.

BAM.

Because I wasn’t looking where I was walking, my shin collided squarely with a heavy stone garden border. A sharp gasp tore from my throat as I stumbled forward.

I caught myself just in time, only to look up and find the old lady staring back at me with a deeply judgmental, told-you-so look plastered across her face.

“See?” she said smoothly, not missing a beat. “I told you you’d like him.”

Before I could even sputter out a defence or process the humiliation, she waved a hand dismissively. “Now come along, let’s go see the house!”

What? What just happened?

Groaning softly, I rubbed my bruised shin, my cheeks burning crimson as I trailed after her.