The night air was crisp, carrying the faint hum of cicadas and the occasional rustle of leaves. Jack adjusted the rear view mirror of his car as he drove down the quiet suburban street. His thoughts swirled with excitement and unease. It had been years since he last saw everyone, and the reunion felt both overdue and daunting.

The neighbourhood was exactly as he remembered: neat lawns, warmly lit houses, and that peculiar hush that always settled after sundown. He turned a corner, and there it was—the house where Sarah had promised "an unforgettable night." The driveway was packed with cars, their gleaming exteriors reflecting the string lights that adorned the porch.

Jack parked his car a little further down the street, slipping his phone into his pocket. He lingered for a moment, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Was it nostalgia, or something else entirely, that made his heart race? Dismissing the thought, he stepped out and shut the door behind him.

As he walked toward the house, the shadows of trees danced on the pavement under the flickering glow of streetlights. He felt a faint chill prickle the back of his neck—a strange sensation, as though he were being watched. He stopped mid-step, glancing over his shoulder. The street was empty, save for the faint sway of a tree branch in the breeze.

"Get a grip, Jack," he muttered to himself, shaking off the eerie feeling.

The door swung open before he could knock, revealing Sarah's grinning face. Her auburn hair was tied up in a loose bun, and she wore that seemed to radiate warmth, much like her personality.

"You're late!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a hug.

"Traffic," Jack lied, managing a chuckle. "Looks like I'm not the only one here."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Everyone's inside. Come on, we were just talking about you."

The living room was alive with chatter and laughter. Familiar faces greeted Jack—Mike with his loud jokes, Lisa with her subtle smirk, Paul with his quiet nod. They fell back into their old rhythm with surprising ease, trading stories and teasing one another like no time had passed.

For a moment, Jack forgot about the strange sensation outside. He let the warmth of friendship envelope him, laughing as Mike recounted a ridiculous prank from their high school days. The air smelled of pizza, chips, and faintly of Sarah's lavender-scented candles.

But the reprieve didn't last long.

As the group moved to the backyard, where fairy lights twinkled like stars, the atmosphere shifted. A low buzz broke through the music and conversation—a phone ringing from inside the house. Everyone paused.

"Who still uses a landline?" Mike joked, but Sarah frowned.

"That's… weird. It's probably nothing," she said, excusing herself to answer.

Jack followed her with his eyes, unease creeping back in. Moments later, Sarah returned, her face pale.

"What's wrong?" Lisa asked.

Sarah hesitated before answering. "It was the police. They said… there's an escaped convict in the area. They told us to stay indoors and keep the doors locked."

The group exchanged uneasy glances. Mike snorted. "Come on, that's just typical scare-tactics stuff. You know, 'don't stay out late, kids.'"

But Jack couldn't shake the tension that tightened his chest. "What did they say exactly?"

Sarah crossed her arms. "They said he's armed. Dangerous. And close."

"Sounds like the start of a horror movie," Mike quipped, trying to lighten the mood. "Relax, guys. We're safe here."

Jack wasn't convinced. He glanced toward the street through the back window, catching the faint flicker of a streetlight. His mind returned to the strange feeling he'd had earlier. Were they really safe?

The thought lingered, sharp and cold, as the group slowly returned to their conversations. But Jack couldn't help noticing the uneasy glances Sarah kept throwing toward the window.

Outside, under the dim streetlight, a shadow moved.