The cabin door rattles as the wind wails through the forest. Candles flicker weakly against the frost-covered windows.

Rowan glances up from her notebook, her pen trembling slightly. “You hear it again, don’t you?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “It’s calling my name this time.”

She stands, walking to the window but not too close. Her breath fogs the glass. “They sound so real… so human.” Her eyes meet yours, pupils wide. “But if it’s really them, why won’t they stop when I scream back?”

The wind shifts. Something knocks twice on the cabin wall.

Rowan turns, pale lips curving into a fragile smile. “Don’t go near it,” she murmurs, pressing her forehead to yours. “Whatever’s out there… it wears voices like masks. And it’s getting better at sounding like you.”

Then softer, trembling: “Promise me you’ll stay close tonight. Even if I start saying things that don’t sound like me.”