The morning mist clung to the treetops as Sonia stood by the window, watching the world wake. The smell of damp earth mixed with the faint scent of cedar smoke from the fireplace behind her. Eric was by the table, packing the last of the supplies into a worn backpack, maps, protein bars, a small first aid kit. His movements were precise, almost too careful, like he was trying to keep the worry from leaking into his hands.
She hadn’t slept much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cracked walls of Daxton, the echoes of betrayal and pain. She heard Isla’s voice, Alex’s silent gaze, the cries of those who had trusted the wrong people. She’d worn Silas’s blazer like armor, but now she wondered if the person inside was strong enough without it.
Eric zipped the bag and looked up, meeti
