<h4>Chapter 1261: Chapter 1261</h4>


    La and Natalie matched.


    Then they smiled. All three.


    Jude’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. Zoey gripped his arm.


    "They’re not... them anymore."


    They didn’t wait for the ritual to end. Carefully, they crept back, retreating down the path until the chanting faded behind them and the birds dared to sing again. When they reached the edge of camp, they found Sophie waiting under the big tree near the river. Her face was pale, jaw tight.


    "Susan and Grace are changing too," she said before they even spoke. "I followed them to the small cave near the blue vines. There’s a symbol carved into the wall. They were tracing it with their fingers and humming. When I got too close, they both turned at the exact same time and just... stared."


    Emma joined secondster, leading Lucy by the hand. Lucy blinked at them all. "What’s going on? Why are you all acting like something’s wrong?"


    Emma squeezed her hand. "Just listen, okay?"


    Lucy turned to Jude. "Tell me."


    Jude took a deep breath and sat her down. They exined everything. Rose’s smile. La’s possession. The humming, the chanting, the ck eyes, the ritual in the forest. Lucy’s face shifted slowly from confusion to disbelief, and then to something cold and scared.


    "No," she whispered. "They wouldn’t hurt us."


    "We don’t think they mean to," Sophie said. "We think they believe they’re helping. But it’s not them anymore. Something else is guiding them."


    Lucy folded her arms tightly over her chest. "Then how do we stop it?"


    Jude looked around at each of them. "We iste them. If the connection spreads through closeness - touch, words, time - then we put distance between them and anyone not affected. Tonight, we’ll all sleep in the treehouse. All of us. Doors barred."


    Zoey nodded. "And if they resist?"


    "Then we make them stay."


    Emma looked down. "What if they’ve already nned for that?"


    Jude didn’t answer.


    That night, they cooked together. Talked together. Acted normal. Rose returned with her party in thete afternoon, eyes bright, smiles wider than ever. Grace kissed Ste gently before sitting beside the fire, and Susan curled into Natalie’sp, humming softly as Rose brushed her hair. Jude fought the bile in his throat and smiled through it.


    By the time the stars were out, Jude stood and stretched.


    "Alright," he said. "We’re sleeping in the treehouse tonight. Big group sleep, like old times. The wind’s picking up. Let’s stay warm together."


    Rose looked up slowly. "All of us?"


    "Yeah."


    She tilted her head. "Even the ones who’ve been... distant?"


    Jude froze. "What do you mean?"


    Her smile grew. "You, Sophie, Zoey. You’ve been watching us. Whispering. Separating."


    Lucy stepped forward. "That’s not true. We just missed the old days."


    Rose stood, graceful and fluid, her gaze moving to each of them. "So you’ll all stay in the treehouse?"


    Jude nodded slowly. "Together."


    She smiled again, too wide. "Good."


    The others followed. Some reluctantly, others with eerie delight. As they climbed the stairs, Jude whispered instructions to Sophie, Zoey, and Emma: lock the door once inside, keep watches in shifts. Don’t let anyone slip out.


    Rose was thest to enter.


    She turned at the threshold, eyes sweeping the forest like she could feel the ind breathing through the dark.


    And then she stepped inside.


    The door shut.


    The first night of containment had begun.


    The door clicked shut behind Rose, and for a moment, the only sound was the whisper of wind in the trees. The air inside the treehouse grew thick, as if the walls had drawn a breath and were holding it with them. Rose stood at the entrance, gaze sweeping the room slowly, deliberately. Her smile was still faint, but there was something different in the way it settled on her lips now - less performative, more ancient. More knowing.


    The others filed into the room without a word. Grace leaned against the far wall near the balcony, her eyes flicking from person to person. Ste and Susan sat close together on one of the low cushions, speaking softly. Natalie moved straight to La, who had already curled into one of the hammocks, her legs danglingzily as if this were any other night. Rose, however, remained standing, her presence heavy enough that it seemed to anchor the space.


    Jude motioned discreetly to Sophie and Zoey. They took the far side of the room, positioning themselves near the windows, the only exit besides the main door. Emma stayed close to Lucy, who was pretending to organize the nkets and pillows in a corner, but her hands shook with the effort of it. Jude made a slow circuit of the room, handing out small bundles of dried fruit, anything to keep the illusion of normalcy intact.


    "We haven’t done this in a while," Jude said, his voice low and casual.


    "I like it," La murmured from her hammock, her voice thick with honey. "Feels... cozy."


    Rose finally moved, gliding across the floor to sit beside Susan and Ste. Her fingers brushed Ste’s shoulder, light as breath. "Together is always better," she said softly. "Don’t you agree, Jude?"


    He met her gaze. Her eyes looked normal again - green with flecks of gold - but he knew better. The ckness had simply retreated, waiting.


    "I do," he said. "That’s why we’re all here."


    Rose tilted her head. "Are we?"


    Jude smiled tightly. "Every one of us."


    The group settled. Cushions were imed, bodies leaned against walls or one another. Grace took thest spot near the balcony, sitting cross-legged and serene, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the candle’s glow. Zoey and Sophie kept quiet but alert, and Emma hadn’t stopped scanning the room since she sat down.


    As the fire burned low in the small metal brazier, the shadows inside the treehouse began to stretch and curl like cats waking from slumber. Conversation dwindled into quiet murmurs. Someone yawned - Susan, maybe - and Lucy curled into Emma’sp like a child needingfort. The mood turned slow and heavy, the kind of quiet that doesn’t lead to rest but to unease.