Chapter 33: The Weight of Quiet
The next morning dawned gray and heavy, the kind of sky that felt like it was holding its breath. Emery stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing out Callahan Jr.’s cereal bowl while Brent packed a small toolbox by the door.
He wasn’t talking much.
Not cold.Not distant.Just… quiet.
The kind of quiet that meant something was turning over in his mind.
“You heading out to the fence line?” Emery asked gently.
Brent nodded. “Storm last night loosened a few boards. I want to get ahead of it.”
She dried her hands on a towel. “Do you want help?”
He hesitated — just long enough for her to notice.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I know I don’t have to,” she replied. “I’m offering.”
He looked at her then, eyes softening. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
They walked the prope
