The Shuddering

whisper.
    She was an idiot. She should have sucked it up, marched back to the cabin, locked herself upstairs for the rest of the weekend. Her breath hitched in her throat. A third shadow shifted beneath the shade of the trees.
    “Sawyer?” The name quavered, fear punctuating its syllables.
    No response.
    It wasn’t him.
    She turned away, her breaths coming in gasps now. Those shadows were blocking her way back to the house. She started to walk again, determined to put distance between herself and the trees. Maybe her stalker would back off, not wanting to come into the clearing. Maybe if she screamed loud enough Sawyer would hear her back at the cabin. He and Ryan would find her. They had to. She couldn’t be that far away.
    Unable to help herself, the tears came again.

    The cabin had settled into an uncomfortable silence. Ryan sat at the table, his chin in his hands, while Jane kept herself busy in the kitchen. Sawyer was alone in the living room, nursing a cup of coffee, staring at a blank television screen, while Lauren spent some time on the deck smoking, then went back upstairs. The tension was stifling, and Ryan considered opening all the doors and windows to air the place out, wondering if the cold would shock them all back into some semblance of normalcy.
    It had been ten minutes since he and Sawyer had left April outside, and Ryan could relate to her need to get away. He’d spent most of his life shutting down and clamming up. But he couldn’t help the seed of worry from sprouting in the pit of his stomach. It was cold out there, and the clouds were rolling in fast.
    Ryan glanced over to Jane when she sighed and poured a fresh mug of coffee. She looked tired, ravaged by a revelation that hurt more than she had expected. He could see it on her face—the emotional scar that she had tried so desperately to heal freshly opened and bleeding. Jane turned to look at him, forced a broken smile when she realized he’d been watching her the entire time, then took a seat next to him at the table with a downturned chin. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she tried to understand it, trying to figure out how to make things right again. But Ryan doubted there was a way to do that now. Their group had been fractured beyond repair. If it hadn’t been for the snow, all that would have been left to do was to pack up and go home.
    “I was going to make another dinner,” she started.
    “Don’t,” he said. “Just take it easy.”
    “We still have to eat,” she protested, staring into the steam of her coffee cup.
    The wind picked up outside, howling through the trees. He watched the pines closest to the deck bend against the railing. Jane closed her eyes as if contemplating something.
    “When did all of this get so screwed up?” she asked quietly.
    Ryan shook his head, sliding his hand across the table to squeeze her fingers in reassurance. Everything was going to be okay. It had been years before, and it would be again.
    “I guess I just…” She hesitated, scoffed at the thought that rolled through her head. “I was stupidly hopeful, you know?” She lifted her gaze to look at him. “As much as I hate to say it, I think you should go find her.”
    He could see it in her eyes—she didn’t want April back any more than he did, but the weather was taking a bad turn. The wind was pushing the clouds fast across the sky. In another fifteen minutes the sun would be blotted out entirely. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he drew his hand across his face. He predicted yelling, lots of slamming doors. It would be like Mom and Dad all over again. He slid her mug over to himself, took a swig, and rose to his feet.
    “You should talk to him,” he told her, nodding toward the living room. “He feels like shit.”
    “What am I supposed to say?” she asked him.
    Ryan tipped his gaze toward the ceiling. “Just tell him you don’t hate him. Don’t forget that when you and Alex shacked up, Sawyer was the first to congratulate you. You think he was happy?”
    Jane frowned. “And you think he’s happy now?” she asked, daring to look her brother in the eyes.
    But Ryan didn’t hold her gaze for long. The sound of a zipper being pulled upward had his attention drifting across the kitchen to Sawyer.
    “I’m going to go bring her in,” he told them. “Last thing we need is someone catching pneumonia.”
    “Don’t,” Ryan said. “I’m going right now.”
    “I’m already dressed,” Sawyer