The sound of rain came first—soft, rhythmic, almost gentle. Then came the pain, slicing through Natalie’s skull like glass. She tried to move, but her limbs felt foreign, her throat dry. When her eyes fluttered open, the world swam into view—shadows, smoke, the scent of burnt metal. The car was gone. So was the road. She was lying on damp ground, mud clinging to her skin. For a second, she thought she might still be dreaming. But then she remembered the flash—the gun—the explosion.
Her pulse spiked.
“Adrian?”
Her voice came out hoarse. Nothing.
“Ethan?”
Silence.
She pushed herself upright, swaying as her knees buckled. The forest around her was too still, too quiet, except for the occasional crackle of burning debris somewhere in the distance. The rain washed ash from her hair as she
