Chapter 4

The air in Willow Glen had changed. What had once been a town full of slow, measured breaths-people moving at the same unhurried pace they had followed for years-was now a place where fear gnawed at the edges of every conversation. And the sky, always so vast and open, now felt oppressive, heavy with the threat of what could come from beyond it.

News came first in the form of panicked whispers, then in hurried broadcasts: towns nearby had been razed, their populations vanished overnight, their homes reduced to rubble. It wasn't distant cities anymore-it was places they knew, towns with names that were familiar, communities like theirs.

Aeliana stood in the yard, staring at the sky, the blue above her somehow darker, tinged with a threat she couldn't put into words. The sun was still shining, but it felt colder now, as if the warmth had been sucked from the air. The world felt wrong, and no amount of sunshine could change that.

Her father, Marcus, had grown quieter, but his movements had become more frantic. Every day he worked on something new-sharpening tools, stockpiling supplies, setting traps along the property line. Aeliana watched him from the porch as he hammered at a wooden spike, driving it into the ground as if that would somehow stop the alien forces inching closer to their town.

"We need to be ready," he muttered to himself, though Aeliana had heard him say it so many times by now that the words had lost their meaning. He wasn't speaking to her. He wasn't speaking to anyone. He was trying to convince himself.

"Dad," Aeliana called, but he didn't stop working. She tried again, louder this time, walking closer until she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. "Dad, take a break."

Marcus finally paused, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His face was gaunt, dark circles forming under his eyes from the lack of sleep. Ever since the news broke of nearby towns falling to the alien forces, Marcus had become consumed with the idea of survival-at any cost.

"There's no time to rest," he said gruffly, turning back to his task. "If they come, we'll need everything ready."

"If they come," Aeliana repeated, though the words tasted bitter on her tongue. It wasn't an "if" anymore, and they both knew it. The aliens were getting closer every day.

She felt a sinking sensation in her gut as she watched her father, his movements more erratic, his eyes wild with a desperate need to control the uncontrollable. He had always been the calm one, the voice of reason in their family, but now that calm had fractured into something darker. She had seen it in him the past few days-a willingness to do whatever it took to survive, even if it meant crossing lines that once would have been unthinkable.

Inside, Lydia moved through the house with cold efficiency. She had always been practical, but lately, Aeliana had noticed a sharpness to her mother's demeanor, a cold pragmatism that sent a chill down her spine. Where Marcus had grown frantic, Lydia had turned inward, her focus on keeping the household running, as if they could hold on to some semblance of normalcy if only she kept the dishes clean and the floors swept.

But even her mother wasn't immune to the creeping dread. Lydia had been spending more time at town meetings, her presence among the other residents more frequent, though Aeliana noticed she rarely spoke about what was discussed when she returned home. There was an unspoken tension between them, a growing distance that made Aeliana feel like her mother was slipping further and further away with each passing day.

"Do you think it'll reach us?" Aeliana asked one evening as she sat at the kitchen table, watching Lydia prepare dinner. The question had been gnawing at her, and she could no longer keep it inside.

Lydia paused for a moment, her hands stilling over the knife she was using to chop vegetables. Her gaze didn't lift from the cutting board as she spoke. "It doesn't matter what I think. We have to be prepared."

The answer was cold, detached. Aeliana stared at her mother, trying to read the expression on her face, but Lydia gave nothing away. She was a closed book, harder than Aeliana remembered. Growing up, Lydia had been the more nurturing parent, always the one to comfort them after nightmares or soothe their fears with kind words. But now, the kindness had been replaced by something else-something harsher.

"Do you even care what happens?" Aeliana asked, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.

Lydia's eyes flicked up, sharp as knives. "Caring won't keep us alive, Aeliana. It's time to stop worrying about feelings and start worrying about survival. You'll understand that soon enough."

Aeliana flinched at the coldness in her mother's tone. This wasn't the woman she remembered. It was as if the invasion had taken not only her brother and her father, but her mother, too-leaving behind a shell that only knew how to focus on getting through another day.

As they sat down to dinner, the silence between them was heavy. Tara and Evan, her younger siblings, didn't seem to notice the tension, but Aeliana could feel it pressing down on her like a weight. Tara had been more withdrawn lately, spending most of her time in her room, while Evan continued to play with his toy spaceship, blissfully unaware of how close the danger truly was.

The town had become a place of whispered conversations and anxious glances. When Aeliana walked through the streets, she could feel the unease crackling in the air. People had begun locking their doors even in the middle of the day, something unheard of in Willow Glen. The small, peaceful town was no longer untouched by the invasion. It was on the edge, teetering on the brink of collapse.

As she passed by the town square one afternoon, Aeliana overheard a group of people standing near the general store, their voices low but urgent.

"They're getting closer," one man said, his face pale and drawn. "It's only a matter of time before they reach us."

"We need to leave," a woman added, her voice trembling. "We can't stay here. If we do, we're dead."

"We don't know that," another man replied. "There's still a chance they might pass us by."

"Pass us by?" The woman scoffed, her voice rising. "Do you think they care about this place? They'll wipe us out like they've wiped out everyone else."

Aeliana slowed her pace, trying to listen without drawing attention to herself. The conversation was one she had heard before, echoing in different corners of the town as people began to realize that they couldn't pretend anymore. The aliens were coming, and no one knew what would happen when they arrived.

But then, something else caught her attention-something darker.

"They say some towns have started making offerings," a man muttered under his breath, glancing around as if afraid someone might overhear.

"Offerings?" the woman asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

The man nodded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "To the aliens. Sacrifices, to keep them away. People. They think it'll save them."

Aeliana's blood ran cold. The idea was horrifying, but the way the man spoke-there was no disbelief in his tone, no shock. Just grim acceptance.

"Do you think it works?" another voice asked, softer, more uncertain.

The man shrugged. "Who knows? But if it does we might not have a choice."

Aeliana's heart pounded in her chest as she hurried away from the conversation, her mind racing. Offerings? Sacrifices? The very thought made her stomach churn, but a part of her couldn't help but wonder if it was true. People did desperate things when they were afraid. And Willow Glen was afraid.

When she returned home, her father was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at a map of the town, his fingers tracing the lines of the roads as if looking for an escape route.

"Dad," she said softly, sitting down across from him. "Do you think we'll make it?"

Marcus looked up, his face weary and lined with stress. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists on the table. "We'll do what we have to," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

Aeliana swallowed hard, fear tightening in her chest. She wasn't sure what terrified her more-the aliens, or what her father might be willing to do to keep them safe.