Page 17 of The Dark Stranger
People who didn’t know the rumors.
Didn’t care about small-town poison.
People who came for her work.
A spark of excitement stirred in her chest. It had been a full week since she’d last opened shop. A whole week of silence and fallout.
She checked the time.
Her first appointment wasn’t until eleven.
With everything set, Becca pulled out her sketchbook. Drawing had always been her escape—the place she could disappear when the world got too loud.
Her pencil moved easily at first.
A silhouette.
Strong lines. Broad shoulders.
Then a lion.
Its mane bold, powerful—protective.
Her mind wandered, and an idea formed without effort.
A Viking man.
A lion’s head rising above him like a crown. Strength stacked on strength. Warrior and guardian merged into one.
She shaded slowly, carefully.
Then—
She froze.
A voice surfaced in her mind.
Low. Steady.
The same one from last night.
“You’re safe now.”
Her breath caught.
The pencil slipped from her fingers, clattering against the floor.
Becca stared at the sketch, heart pounding, the words echoing in her head as if someone had just spoken behind her.
But the shop was empty.
And the silence had teeth.
The soft jingle of the bell above the door snapped her out of it.
Becca’s head lifted just as the front door opened, cold air rushing in with two figures framed by falling snow.
Her first appointment.
