Days turned into a restless week. The encounter with Ethan continued to plague Claire's thoughts. His abrupt departure under the full moon's glow resonated with an unsettling rhythm. She found herself drawn to the windows at dusk, searching for his silhouette on the moonlit street, a strange hope blooming in her chest.
Customers commented on her absentmindedness, how her eyes seemed to wander beyond the stacks of books. Even Mrs. Henderson's lively chatter about Mr. Darcy's brooding charm failed to capture Claire's usual enthusiasm.
One evening, as she wrestled with a particularly stubborn box of new arrivals, a hesitant knock startled her. Heart pounding, she rushed to the door, praying it was Ethan. Instead, she found a young woman, her hair the colour of burnished copper, eyes shimmering with concern.
"Claire?" she asked, voice laced with a gentle Scottish lilt. "I'm Fiona. Ethan's neighbour. He mentioned you might be worried."
Ethan had mentioned her? A spark of warmth flickered in Claire's chest.
"Worried?" she repeated, feigning nonchalance.
Fiona's smile was knowing. "He doesn't handle full moons well," she explained, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "He tends to... disappear for a night or two."
Claire's mind raced. Disappear? Was there a perfectly reasonable explanation, or was Ethan harbouring a secret as dark as the shadows that seemed to cling to him?
"He's a good man, Claire," Fiona continued, her gaze unwavering. "A bit… troubled, but fiercely loyal and kind. He wouldn't hurt you."
Claire wasn't sure what worried her more – the implication that Ethan might be dangerous or the unsettling possibility that he might be genuinely troubled.
"Where does he go?" she asked reluctantly.
Fiona shook her head. "He never says. But he always comes back… changed, somehow."
The cryptic answer offered little comfort, but it did plant a seed of determination in Claire's heart. She wouldn't let this enigmatic stranger disappear without answers.
That night, sleep evaded her. The full moon cast an ethereal glow through her window, bathing the room in an eerie silver light. Unable to shake the image of Ethan disappearing into the moonlit woods, Claire made a decision. She would find him.
Pulling on a warm jacket and boots, she grabbed a flashlight and crept out into the cool night air. The familiar comfort of Everwood seemed strangely menacing under the cloak of darkness. The rustling of leaves sounded like approaching footsteps, and shadows stretched like grasping claws.
Drawn by an instinct she couldn't explain, Claire headed towards the edge of town, where the forest began its silent march towards the horizon. Each step seemed to amplify the pounding of her heart, yet a strange sense of purpose propelled her forward.
Suddenly, a guttural howl echoed through the trees, sending chills down her spine. Panic threatened to engulf her, but the image of Ethan's troubled eyes flickered in her mind. Steeling her nerves, Claire followed the sound, her flashlight beam cutting through the dense foliage.