No one opened their doors anymore. Not after dark. Not even for family. The rules weren’t written down, but everyone knew them: Don’t invite anyone in, don’t ask to come in. Some strangers came sobbing, pleading, clutching fake wounds in the dark. Others just stood and waited, too still to be human. People disappeared, or worse, came back wrong. During the day, people still gathered in the sun, clinging to its warmth like it was the last good thing left. But even in daylight, no one stepped into anyone else’s home. You could smile with a neighbour at the farmer’s market, then pass their house and wonder what was locked inside. Now, in the thick of summer, the town soaked in every hour of sunlight it could get, afraid of what winter would bring when the nights come faster, longer, and colder, and the dark would have even more time to knock.