Viv:
The house was too quiet. That kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl, because you know it won’t last.
Callie had gone to lay down after giving us the name—Ridgewater—and the location. Knox was out in the shed, probably staring at weapons or sharpening something that didn’t need sharpening, just to keep his hands busy.
I stood at the sink, rinsing out a coffee cup that had already been clean, watching the desert beyond the window. The sky was streaked in colors that didn’t seem real—bright golds and bruised blue, the kind that made the whole world feel like it was holding its breath.
That’s what we were doing.
Holding our breath.
Waiting.
Waiting for the sun to go down.
Waiting for the blood to spill.
Waiting for the ghosts to scream one last time.
I dried my hands slowly,
