Page 26 of He Sees You

The smoke will dissipate before anyone notices.

Roy himself won't be found until spring thaw, if then.

The animals will avoid this place—they always know when death is unnatural, when something has been marked by a predator they don't understand.

I climb down carefully, testing each branch despite knowing they'll hold.

Sloppiness is how predators become prey, and I have too much work left to do.

At the base of the tree, I look up one last time.

Roy has stopped moving, his body swaying slightly in the wind like strange fruit.

The deer skull glows white in the moonlight, a beacon of judgment in the darkness.

The walk back to my cabin takes an hour through the forest paths only I know.

By the time I arrive, snow has covered my tracks completely.

Inside, I develop the single photo I kept in my darkroom, watching Celeste's image appear in the chemical bath like a ghost materializing.

She's beautiful in her solitude, unaware of being watched, unaware of being saved.

Tomorrow, I'll leave something for her.

Not a threat or a warning, but a gift.

A single raven feather on her windowsill, black as ink, soft as a whisper.

Something beautiful to counteract the ugliness Roy brought into her orbit.

She won't know what it means yet, won't understand that it's a promise.

Ravens are messengers in the old stories, carriers between worlds.

This feather will be my first real communication with her, though she won't know it.

She'll probably think it blew there naturally, or perhaps wonder at its placement.

But some part of her, the part that writes about darkness and destiny, will recognize it as significant.

But she will understand, eventually.

I sit at my desk and open my own journal, the one where I document everything.

Every kill, every reason, every moment that leads to these necessities.

Tonight's entry is longer than usual, detailed with Roy's crimes and his punishment.

Someday, when Celeste is ready, she'll read these.

She'll understand that every death was for her, a clearing of the path between us.

CHAPTER FOUR

Celeste

The raven feather is too perfect to be accidental.