CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The three of us stare at each other for a long moment. Finally, Marlowe clears his throat. “I, uh, I should go. Breakfast is calling.”
I look down at Ryan’s breakfast, all over the cabin’s front steps, and try to make sense of what I just heard. I can’t comprehend it, though. My mind is spinning. Perhaps I heard wrong. Perhaps Ryan was telling a joke, as crazy sounding as that is.
“Okay,I say to Marlowe with a nod as he walks past me.
I take his place, stepping into the cabin, drawn in by Ryan’s heavy gaze.
Marlowe's footsteps recede, his shadow slipping away with the last sliver of light as the door thuds shut. The cabin swallows us in silence, a vacuum where my heartbeat seems too loud, a drumming echo against Ryan's steady gaze.
"Thanks, Marlowe," I whisper into
