False Sanctuary

Gary Winston slowed as he approached the entrance of his estate, the memory of the matte-black SUVs still lingering at the edge of his thoughts. His eyes swept the perimeter out of instinct—gated driveway, hedges, shadows.

Nothing.

Just the long stretch of empty road and fading afternoon light.

Yet the silence didn’t feel normal. It pressed against him, heavy and wrong.

A cold prickle crept up