The night was thick with fog as Natalie sat by the dying campfire, Ethan asleep in her arms. The forest was silent except for the rustle of wind and the low hiss of water from the nearby stream. Her mind was anything but still. Every breath she took was heavy with betrayal, confusion, and the ghost of a child’s name that wouldn’t stop echoing in her head — Daniel.
She watched the flames fade to embers, the smoke twisting like memories she couldn’t escape. When Adrian returned from scouting the perimeter, his face was drawn, pale in the moonlight. His shirt was torn where Loren’s blade had cut him, but the blood had dried. He moved quietly, careful not to meet her eyes.
“You should rest,” he murmured.
“I can’t,” she said flatly.
He hesitated. “Ethan’s safe. That’s what matters right now
