After one more hour, the car finally stops.

The engine dies beneath us, a soft shudder running through the frame before silence swallows everything whole. I look outside through the window. The glass is cold against my temple.

Hills.

He brought me to the hills.

Silas unbuckles his seatbelt. The soft click cuts through the quiet. I turn my head slowly and look at him.

"You brought me here to hike?"

Silas smiles softly and shakes his head.

No.

The motion is gentle, almost lazy, like he expected the question and already decided how to answer without words.

I look away.

Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and push the door open. The air hits me first—cold, sharp, thin enough to make my lungs work harder than they’re used to.

It’s almost evening.

The sun has already disappeared behind the tall trees, their dark branches tangled against a bruised-purple sky. Whatever warmth remained is fading fast, swallowed slowly by the coming dusk.

An old woman stands near the entrance of a wooden house. She wears traditional clothes—deep indigo fabric embroidered with patterns I don’t recognize.

Beside her stands a young man, his hands clasped neatly in front of him, his posture perfectly straight. They bow lightly.

"Welcome, sir."

Their voices are quiet. Polite. Silas gives them a soft smile. His face still looks fresh. Calm. Untouched by exhaustion.

Seriously?

The young man walks to the car. Opens the back door. Then he pulls out a small dark leather suitcase, its wheels rolling softly over the gravel.

I stare at it.

Wait. A suitcase?

In my car?

My gaze shifts to Silas.

Did he pack this without me noticing?

When?

He doesn’t meet my eyes. He simply follows the old woman up the stone steps.

I follow after them.

The young man follows quietly behind us, the suitcase rolling beside him through the gravel with soft, dragging sounds.

I look around.

The stone path beneath my feet is uneven, worn smooth by years of footsteps. Old trees press close on either side, their dark branches tangled together overhead, blocking out what little light remains.

It looks like some kind of resort. Perched deep in the hills. Hidden among the trees like a secret no one talks about.

I didn’t know Crystal Country had a place like this. Not that I go out enough to know.

People’s minds. Their noise. The constant hum of thoughts bleeding into mine until my own thoughts barely feel like mine anymore.

Staying home is easier. Quieter. The silence there is mine.

Peaceful.

The young man opens the door to the wooden house. The wood is dark and aged, carved with patterns I don’t recognize.

"Please."

We step inside.

One room. That’s all.

But the walls are glass—floor to ceiling, so clear they almost don’t seem real. Beyond them, the hills fade slowly into darkness, the trees swaying in a wind I can’t feel from in here.

The young man sets the suitcase down near the bed. His movements are careful, deliberate, like he’s afraid of disturbing something fragile.

"Please call me if you need anything, sir."

Silas nods.

The young man walks out. The door closes behind him with a soft click. The kind of sound that feels final.

My gaze shifts to Silas. Sharp. Anger presses against the edges of my voice.

"What is this?" My gaze shifts toward the suitcase. "When did you put that in my car?"

I look back at him.

"And don’t tell me you brought me here to stay overnight."

Silas reaches into his pocket and takes out the small leather notebook he always carries. A pencil rests neatly along its spine. He pulls it free and writes.

The scratching of graphite against paper sounds strangely loud in the silence. Then he hands me the note.

It’s a surprise. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I packed your clothes and mine. Secretly.

I crumple the note in my fist. The paper protests softly before I throw it aside. It lands against the dark wooden floor like a pale, crushed flower.

Packed my clothes. Secretly.

My voice turns flat. Cold.

"I don’t want to stay here."

My gaze drifts around the room—the glass walls, the dark wooden ceiling, the cream-colored couch near the window piled with soft pillows. Everything about this place feels designed for comfort. For escape.

"And I don’t like your surprise." I hold my hand out. "Give me my car keys."

My gaze locks onto his.

"I told you already. If I didn’t like it, I was leaving you here."

Silas blinks once. His face remains calm. Unmoved. Like my anger is just weather passing over him. Then he writes another note.

That’s not the surprise. There’s still more.

My brows twist.

Is this man messing with me on purpose?

I look at him. My voice sharpens.

"What do you mean?"

Silas’s gaze shifts toward the glass wall.

Outside, the world is almost completely dark now. The trees stand in shadow, their branches tangled against the night sky.

Then—

Light.

Small golden lights begin glowing between the trees. Fairy lights. They flicker softly at first, scattered through the darkness like distant embers. Then more begin to glow. And more. Until the hills shimmer beneath threads of warm gold light.

Silas checks his watch.

I stare at him, confusion settling heavily in my chest.

Then he writes another note.

Just fifteen more minutes. Please.

I look at him for a long moment.

"Fine. Fifteen minutes." My voice stays cold. "But I already warned you what happens if I don’t like your surprise."

I turn and walk forward. The room is small. But the longer I look, the more details begin to surface.

The bed is large—too large for one person. The sheets are white and perfectly smooth, turned down like an invitation. Red petals scatter across the fabric, dark against the pale sheets.

My steps stop.

Red petals.

My jaw tightens. I look at Silas.

"Is THIS your surprise?"

He quickly shakes his head no and writes another note.

I didn’t know about this. Maybe the staff prepared it themselves.

I look away.

My hand finds the glass door. I slide it open smoothly and step onto the balcony. Cold air immediately wraps around me.

Darkness stretches through the hills now, thick between the trees. Golden fairy lights glow softly through the branches, scattered across the valley in warm threads of light.

The air bites against my skin. Sharp. Clean. Cold enough to sting my lungs when I breathe.

Then—

Warmth. Slowly, carefully, a jacket settles over my shoulders. The fabric is soft.

I blink. A small flicker of surprise moves through me.

I look back.

Silas stands behind me. Close enough that I can feel his presence without him touching me. A note rests in his outstretched hand.

I take it.

Can I hold your hand?

I look at him. My voice stays flat. Final.

"No."

He immediately writes another note. His movements quicker this time, almost eager.

Please. Just for once.

"No."

He blinks at me innocently. The golden lights caught in his brown eyes make them shine softly in the dark.

Then—

He pouts. Dramatically. Childishly.

His lower lip pushes out just enough to make the expression impossible to ignore.

I stare at him. My expression shifts slightly.

What is that expression?