The world outside the house on the hill was painted in the cold, unforgiving palette of a military dawn. The mist clung to the trees- a silent wisping veil, and the gravel of the driveway crunched under the tires of Briars car with a finality that made Briar’s chest tighten.
Victor had insisted she drive. He said he wanted to watch the road through her eyes one last time, but as they navigated the winding path away from the sanctuary they’d built, he wasn’t looking at the scenery. He was looking at her. His hand was a permanent fixture on the back of her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw in a rhythmic, restless motion.
The silence in the car was absolute. It wasn't the comfortable silence of the previous nights; it was a heavy, industrial weight. Every mile they covered towa
