Thursday: A Race Against Time
By the next day, Jas was alert but weak. “I thought I was dreaming,” they said, their voice hoarse. “The tree, the light… it felt real.”
“It was the fever,” Roman said, sitting by the window. “You’ve been out of it for days.”
Ivy Mae handed Jas a cup of cedar tea. “You scared us. But the herbs are working. Whoever wrote that journal saved your life.”
Jas sipped the tea, their brow furrowed. “I remember things. Voices, symbols… warnings. It’s hard to explain, but it felt like more than a dream.”
Roman glanced at Ivy Mae, who looked uneasy. “The fever probably messed with your head,” Roman said. “Don’t overthink it.”
But Ivy Mae didn’t look convinced. “What if there’s something about this place? Something we’re not seeing yet?”
Before they could dwell on it, a loud crack echoed outside. They rushed to the window to see a tree limb crash to the ground, narrowly missing the cabin.
“Guess the storm isn’t done with us,” Roman muttered.