Leo spun. The laptop screen flickered. The VK page refreshed, showing a simple, clean profile:
And the porch light—the one he hadn’t fixed, the one with the shattered bulb—flickered on, casting a long, hungry shadow across the yard. nowhere ranch vk
A group invite.
In a town of twelve.
The video showed the bunkhouse. His bunkhouse. The camera angle was from the corner, near the old woodstove. The timestamp read: LIVE. He watched himself walk across the frame, a ghost in his own house, scratching his stubble. He didn't remember going to the bunkhouse tonight. Leo spun