Carlisle’s thoughts were still lingering on his patients as he drove home from the hospital, the quiet hum of the engine almost comforting after a long, taxing shift. His mind flickered over the cases he’d treated that day, the faces of the people he’d helped, but as he rounded a curve, something unexpected darted across the road. His reflexes were quick—too quick—he slammed on the brakes, the car skidding momentarily before it came to a stop. His golden eyes searched the darkness, but there was nothing to see, only the stillness of the forest surrounding him. His heart pounded, the sensation of something out of place lingering in the air. He was certain he had seen movement, but now, there was no sign of it. Confusion tightened in his chest, and he waited, unnervingly aware of the silence.