Chap­ter 20 begins with Saint step­ping into the win­try qui­et of Thur­ley State Park, her mind trou­bled by the sil­hou­ette of the tall, worn house she’s just passed. That house belongs to Dr. Tooms, a man whose pres­ence in her life has always been wrapped in mixed emotions—part care­tak­er, part mys­tery. As she walks through the brit­tle trees, the lin­ger­ing scent of hon­ey­suck­le offers a strange con­trast to the creep­ing unease inside her. Her thoughts drift to Patch, her miss­ing friend, and the unan­swered ques­tions cir­cling his dis­ap­pear­ance. The still­ness of the trail is bro­ken by a sud­den ani­mal cry in the dis­tance, send­ing a jolt of fear through her, but she forces her­self for­ward, deter­mined not to turn back.

She approach­es the doctor’s prop­er­ty cau­tious­ly, sur­vey­ing the aging porch and fad­ed paint. Despite the bit­ter cold, sweat clings to her palms as she knocks gen­tly on the door, then hard­er, with grow­ing urgency. Saint peers into the dark win­dows, hop­ing for move­ment, some sign of life, but all she sees is her reflec­tion star­ing back, dis­tort­ed by the wavy glass. Her mind races—if Patch is inside, he could be hurt or worse. Her instincts scream that time may be run­ning out. Though her fear tells her to leave, her loy­al­ty to Patch won’t let her walk away with­out answers.

Cir­cling to the back, Saint shines her flash­light through anoth­er win­dow, catch­ing a glimpse of the doctor’s clut­tered kitchen. The space is silent, filled with pots, med­ical sup­plies, and a heavy lay­er of dust. Some­thing about the absence of a dog—a pet he always had—feels eeri­ly off. Her heart begins to ham­mer as she jig­gles the door han­dle, but it does­n’t budge. She calls out Patch’s name, her voice quiv­er­ing, unsure whether he can hear or whether he’s even there. Des­per­a­tion floods her chest as she press­es her ear to the door, lis­ten­ing for any sound beyond the wind.

Sud­den­ly, a scream rips through the dark­ness. It’s sharp and human, and it sends her stum­bling back­ward, near­ly drop­ping the flash­light. Tears prick her eyes, but she doesn’t retreat. Instead, she runs back around the house, yelling for Patch, con­sumed by the thought that he’s in dan­ger. Her steps crunch against frozen leaves until a sud­den hand grips her shoul­der. A cry erupts from her throat before she even reg­is­ters what’s hap­pen­ing. Turn­ing, she’s met with the pale, grim face of Dr. Tooms—his hands stained with some­thing dark, his breath shal­low in the cold air.

Saint gasps, bare­ly man­ag­ing to take a step back before sprint­ing away, her pulse deaf­en­ing. She doesn’t look behind her, not even when his voice calls out, muf­fled and strange. Whether he’s try­ing to explain or mis­lead her again, she can’t tell. All she knows is that some­thing inside that house isn’t right. She runs toward the park’s edge, her feet numb and heart pound­ing, while her thoughts spi­ral with what she just saw. The red on Dr. Tooms’ hands—was it blood? Could Patch still be inside?

As Saint escapes into the shad­owed woods, her mind floods with fear, but also a grow­ing sense of pur­pose. This isn’t just about Patch anymore—it’s about unrav­el­ing a truth oth­ers are too afraid to face. Her breath clouds the cold air as she final­ly stops beneath a pine tree, clench­ing her fists to fight the shak­ing. She knows now there is more to Dr. Tooms than any­one has guessed. His calm exte­ri­or has cracked, reveal­ing some­thing far more sin­is­ter beneath.

The chap­ter clos­es in a swirl of snowflakes and secrets, with Saint crouched beneath the trees, steel­ing her­self for what comes next. This chap­ter builds momen­tum, blend­ing hor­ror with emo­tion­al ten­sion, and hints at the psy­cho­log­i­cal impact of wit­ness­ing some­thing incom­pre­hen­si­ble. Through Sain­t’s eyes, we feel the ris­ing stakes and the weight of the unknown, set­ting the stage for a con­fronta­tion that feels both inevitable and ter­ri­fy­ing.