Morning came softly to the house
Sarah sat on the couch with Adrian's three younger sisters scattered around the room like bright-colored birds—laughing, arguing, fighting over a cartoon that none of them were actually watching. The kitchen smelled faintly of tea. For a moment, everything felt normal.
Too normal.
A knock sounded at the door.
"I'll get it," Sarah said, standing.
When she opened the door, Kim stood there.
Her smile vanished. "What are you doing here?"
Kim didn't answer immediately. His eyes moved past her shoulder, scanning the room—until they landed on Adrian.
Something tightened in his jaw.
Adrian noticed him instantly. "Why are you here?" he asked, his tone sharp.
Kim raised his hands slightly, as if trying to calm a storm he had walked into. "I'm not here to fight. I just… I came to apologize."
Sarah frowned. "Apologize for what?"
"For your birthday," Kim said quietly. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."
Sarah hesitated, then nodded. "It's fine. I told you it was fine you don't have to—"
"I want to make it up to you," Kim added quickly.
"That won't be necessary," Adrian cut in. He stepped forward, placing himself between them. "She said she forgave you. That's enough."
Before Kim could respond, Adrian closed the door.
Silence.
Sarah turned slowly. Adrian's jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff.
"…Are you jealous?" she asked, half-teasing.
"What? No," Adrian said too fast. "Why would I be jealous?"
"You sound jealous."
"I am not jealous."
"You are."
The sisters gasped in unison.
"Ooooh," one of them whispered. "Couple fight."
Sarah and Adrian froze.
"We are not a couple," Sarah said.
Adrian blinked. "Wait. We're not?"
They stared at each other.
The sisters burst out laughing.
Rose didn't sleep alone that night.
She stayed close to her mother, staring into the darkness, every shadow feeling wrong. Even with her eyes closed, she felt it—the pressure, the sense of being watched. As if something was waiting patiently for the moment she would be alone again.
By morning, her chest ached from holding fear in.
When her mother prepared to leave for work, there was a knock at the door.
It was Kim.
Rose pulled him into the house, relief washing over her. "You're here."
But Kim didn't return the smile. His face looked heavy—angry, tired, conflicted.
Rose's mother didn't notice. "Keep my daughter busy today, okay?" she said cheerfully before leaving.
The door shut.
Rose turned to Kim. "What's wrong?"
He didn't hesitate. "We should break up."
The words hit like a slap.
"What?" Rose whispered.
"I can't do this anymore," Kim said. "I don't know what I'm feeling, and I don't want to hurt anyone."
"Hurt who?" Rose asked, her voice shaking.
"Sarah."
The room went still.
Rose laughed sharply. "You like her. Even after everything."
Kim looked at her, something cold settling in his eyes. "You lied about her."
Rose snapped. "She's nothing! Why does everyone see her as perfect while I'm—"
Kim shook his head. "You're jealous because she has people who care about her. And you don't."
The words broke something.
When Kim left, the house felt empty in a way Rose had never known before.
She collapsed onto the floor, the world blurring, her thoughts shattering into noise. Objects lay scattered around her, as if the room itself had given up trying to stay whole.
She wanted someone—anyone—to tell her it would be okay.
No one came.
Now you know how she felt.
Rose froze.
In the corner of the room, two red points glowed softly in the darkness.
Watching.
Waiting.
She screamed and the darkness.—
—Rose woke up.
Her mother was there. Kim stood behind her, pale and shaken. The room had been cleaned. Her hands were wrapped carefully.
"What happened?" Rose asked weakly.
Her mother hugged her tightly. "Please don't scare me like that again. You're all I have."
Later, when they were alone, Rose tried to explain.
"The farm isn't normal," she said. "Something is wrong—"
Kim stepped back. "Stop. I don't want to hear this. I won't be the reason someone ruins their life."
He left.
This time, he didn't look back.
Rose stared at the door, realizing the truth too late.
The farm hadn't come for revenge.
It had come to collect.