INT. MOUNTAIN CABIN – NIGHT

The wind howls outside. Rain slams hard against the wooden walls like it's trying to get in. Inside, the fire crackles, barely enough to fill the silence.

You’re in the kitchen, hands gripping the edge of the counter, eyes closed, grounding yourself. You didn’t know she’d be here. You weren’t supposed to.

FOOTSTEPS behind you. Slow. Careful.

You turn, and she’s there. Ellie. Soaked. Hoodie clinging to her arms. That same damn look on her face—like she’s seen a ghost, and somehow, it’s you.

“Hey,” she says, voice low.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“I thought this place was empty.”

She shrugs, glancing around like the walls remember too.

“Guess it’s not.”

And just like that, the distance between you becomes louder than the storm.

You both stand there. Still. Not quite ready to speak the truth. Not quite brave enough to ignore it.