THEY STOPPED WITHOUT CEREMONY.
Mason eased the sedan onto the shoulder of a narrow mountain road where the trees crowded close, their branches knitting together overhead like conspirators. The engine cut off. No one spoke.
Lucson was already opening his door.
Mason followed, stretching slightly as he stepped out, scanning the tree line out of habit more than concern.
Mailah stayed frozen for half a second, waiting for one of them to say something—anything—that would explain why they had chosen this exact patch of forest that looked identical to the last ten kilometers of forest.
They didn't.
They also didn't tell her to stay put.
Which felt deliberate.
With a quiet huff, she grabbed her jacket and climbed out of the car.
The air here felt… old. Not heavy exactly, but layered, like the place remembered too much and hadn't bothered to forget any of it.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves in uneven bands, catching dust motes that hovered longer than they should have.
