Chapter 7
The holding cell was cold, lit by a single flickering light above. The walls were a dull beige, stained at the corners. It smelled like bleach and metal.
Nathan Rourke waited on the other side of the glass partition, hands folded, voice quiet.
He didn’t speak yet. He just watched.
Across from him, Jace Carter sat curled in the chair like he was trying to disappear into himself. His hoodie was torn. His jeans were damp at the cuffs. His knuckles were scabbed. There was a bruise on his cheek, faint yellow and purple like a fading storm.
But it was his eyes—empty, distant, staring past Nathan—that said more than anything.
Nathan finally broke the silence.
“Jace.”
The boy didn’t respond.
Nathan leaned in just a little. “My name’s Nathan Rourke. I’m your lawyer now.”
Nothing.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not here to trap you. I’m here to help. But I can’t do that unless you talk to me.”
Still nothing.
Nathan sighed and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
“You were at the fire.”
Jace blinked.
“You came out of the woods. Covered in gas.”
Jace looked down.
Nathan lowered his voice. “Why, Jace? Why were you out there?”
A whisper.
“They told me I had to burn it.”
Nathan froze. “What did you say?”
Jace didn’t lift his head.
“They said it was my turn.”
Nathan’s voice went tighter. “Who said that?”
Silence.
Nathan tried again. “Jace, look at me.”
The boy slowly raised his head.
His eyes—dark and wide—were full of fear.
“It’s not safe to talk.”
“Why?”
“They’re always listening.”
Nathan looked around the room. Just them. The guard outside the door wasn’t even paying attention.
“There’s no one here but us.”
Jace shook his head. “They don’t need to be here. They hear it anyway. Through the walls. Through the woods.”
Nathan leaned forward. “Who are they?”
“The ones in the masks.”
Nathan stilled. “Have you seen them before?”
Jace nodded.
“They come at night. They whisper through the trees. I used to think it was just dreams. But then they started leaving things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Rocks. Feathers. Pieces of rope. Shapes drawn in the dirt outside my window.”
Nathan’s pulse ticked faster. “Did you ever tell your foster mom?”
“She didn’t believe me. Said it was squirrels.”
“What happened the night of the fire?”
Jace’s voice dropped to a fragile thread. “I was in bed. I heard tapping on the window. Like fingernails. I went to look, but there was no one there. Then I saw the light.”
“The fire?”
“No. The torchlight. In the woods. Moving in a circle. And then... the screaming started.”
“Callie?” Nathan asked gently.
Jace flinched.
“I tried to get to her. But the front door wouldn’t open. The whole house smelled like gas. My hands were wet. I—I didn’t light it. I swear I didn’t.”
“I believe you.”
Jace looked up, shocked.
Nathan gave a small nod. “I saw you that night. You weren’t running. You were shaking. Like you saw something no one should see.”
“I did.”
“What?”
Jace’s eyes darkened. “One of the masks fell off.”
Nathan leaned closer. “And?”
“I knew the face.”
Nathan’s breath caught. “Who?”
But Jace shut down.
His shoulders curled again. His head lowered. The wall came back up.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“They’ll come for you, too.”
Nathan placed a hand flat on the table, steady. “Let them.”
“No,” Jace whispered. “You don’t understand. They’re already watching you.”
A long silence passed.
Nathan glanced toward the door. Then back to Jace.
He slid a folded piece of paper across the table.
“I need you to draw it.”
“What?”
“The symbol. The one they leave. The one you see.”
Jace hesitated.
Then he picked up the pen. His hand shook.
He sketched slowly. A circle. A triangle inside. Three lines crossing through the center.
When he was done, he pushed it back.
Nathan stared at it. Cold spread through his chest.
It was the same symbol etched into the chain he found near the burned house. The same one in the sketches from his brother’s journal.
Jace looked up.
“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
Nathan nodded.
“I know.”
He stood, collected the drawing, and knocked on the glass for the guard.
As the door buzzed open, Jace whispered one last thing.
“They’re not finished.”
Nathan turned. “What?”
“The fire was just the start.”
