---
Sarah sat in class, but the words on the blackboard swam like ghosts. She couldn't focus. The whispers, the stares, the accusations — everything she ran from at her old school had come back, only worse. Ten times worse.
The teacher's voice was just noise. Her heart hammered. Her hands trembled. Her mind spiraled.
When the bell rang, she didn't even think. She just needed to talk to someone. Anyone.
Adrian.
She found him as his class let out. The moment he saw her, he pulled her into a hug.
"It's okay," he whispered. "Nothing will happen to you. You're not who they say you are. I'll talk to my dad. Maybe we can clear your name… and your mom's."
Sarah stepped back. "Don't. Please. I don't want you caught up in my mess."
"I won't stand aside," he said, eyes burning with quiet resolve. "You're my wife. I'll treat you like my wife."
She should have argued. She should have laughed it off. But something about him calling her "wife" made her feel… special. Safe. For a moment.
"I just want to go home and cook something for my mom," she murmured.
"I'll come with you."
"No." She forced a smile. "Go home, Adrian. I'll be fine."
He hesitated, then nodded. He didn't want to push her.
---
Sarah's house felt… wrong. The air was heavy, like it was holding its breath. The floor creaked in a way she didn't remember. For a second, it didn't even feel like she'd left at all.
Then she saw it — marks on the kitchen floor. Not footprints. Not animal tracks.
Mud. Thin lines. Like branches had walked across the tiles.
Her stomach flipped. She grabbed a rag and wiped them away without thinking.
She cooked. She packed the food. She closed the door.
Then she glanced at the field.
The field stared back.
Her chest ached. She wanted to go. To tell the scarecrow she wasn't living here anymore. To explain. To… see it.
Her foot moved toward the grass.
Then her mother's voice, faint and broken, echoed in her head:
Every time you bring someone close to this house… they disappear. Your father. Trish. The scarecrow was there. Now he's after me. Please, Sarah, please — don't go to the field again.
Her heart lurched like she'd stepped on fire. She turned away, forcing herself back toward the house.
Out in the field, the scarecrow tilted its head. Its wooden fingers twitched. Not with anger — with disbelief. She had resisted its call.
For the first time.
---
Later, she and Adrian went to the mental institution to see her mother.
"You only have five minutes," the secretary said.
Her mom hugged her tight, trembling. "I missed you so much. Did he hurt you? Did the scarecrow touch you? Tell me. I'll protect you."
Sarah blinked at her. Confusion and relief tangled inside her chest. She pushed a lunchbox into her hands.
"I cooked for you, Mom. People think you're a kidnapper, but I know you didn't—" Her voice cracked. "I just… I miss you so much."
Her mom brushed her hair back. "That boy outside. Is he your boyfriend?"
Sarah peeked at Adrian through the door. "No, Mom. He's just a friend."
Her mom's voice turned urgent. "Please. Don't go to the field again. Promise me."
"I already promised," Sarah said softly. "I'm not even staying at the house. I'm at Adrian's."
"Promise me anyway."
Sarah nodded. "Okay. I promise."
But outside, in the far-off field, something wooden shifted. Watching. Waiting.
---