37 - Spinning Wheel

Ruin

As dawn creeps through the curtains, I stir from a deep, peaceful sleep, the kind I haven’t known in years. The warmth of Chloe Jane’s presence beside me is a comfort that has quickly become a necessity.

But as I reach out, expecting to find her there, my hand meets only the cold, empty sheets. Panic grips me as I throw off the covers and jump out of bed, my heart racing.

“Chloe Jane!” I call out, my voice echoing in the silent cabin. No response. My mind races with worst-case scenarios. Did she wander outside? Is she hurt? The thought of her in any kind of danger sends a surge of adrenaline through me. I hurry out of the bedroom, every muscle tensed, prepared for anything.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I see.

Chloe Jane is sitting in the middle of the living room on the single seater, her hands moving rhythmically in the air. Her eyes, usually a soft unseeing opal with a blue ring, are completely white, like frosted glass.

My first thought is fear—has someth