Scarlett’s POV
I was alone.
Not just here.
Not just in this place we’d been flown to in desperation.
I was alone in the worst way.
In my mind.
In my heart.
In the echo chamber where doubt clanged louder than any gunshot I’d ever heard.
I sat on the floor, if you could call it that, inside a tent that smelled like salt, old wood, and something faintly metallic. Maybe blood. Maybe rust. Maybe memory.
I didn’t know how long I’d been there, but the sky outside the single narrow window had gone from storm-gray to an indifferent blue, then back again.
I hadn’t spoken a word since Jasper walked away.
I hadn’t eaten.
I hadn’t cried.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know how to anymore.
Something had broken inside me. Something soft. Something that used to believe.
