Sam had sworn to protect them, vowed it with every ounce of conviction in his soul. But promises meant nothing in the face of failure, and now all he had left of them was a name carved into cold, unfeeling stone. Every time he stood before their grave, guilt clawed at his chest, whispering the same agonizing questions: What if I had been faster? Stronger? Smarter? Would they still be alive if he had been just a little better? The weight of regret was suffocating, a constant shadow that followed him no matter how far he ran. But nothing haunted him more than the night they came back.

It was impossible—should have been impossible—but there they were, standing at the edge of the cemetery beneath the pale glow of the moon. Their hair stirred in the wind, their face achingly familiar, but something was off. Their skin was too pale, their eyes dull and glassy, yet filled with something unnatural, something not quite human. His breath hitched, his body frozen between terror and desperate hope. He had wished for this moment every single day since they died. But now that they were here, he wasn’t sure if he should run to them—or run away.