I woke before the light did. The room was still, except for the soft hiss of dying fire. The air carried that thin kind of cold that makes everything sound smaller.
He was awake.
Sitting by the window, shoulders bent, gun resting beside him. The faint orange from the embers touched the side of his face, his eyes unfocused, somewhere far away.
He didn’t notice me at first. I watched him in silence. There was something different in the way he breathed, slower, heavier. Not the man who always looked in control. This one looked like he was holding himself together with memory.
I sat up quietly. My body ached. My clothes still damp from the night.
He turned when I shifted. Our eyes met. The kind of look that feels like a question and an answer all at once.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked.
He g
