Kael (POV)
She didn’t speak when she woke.
Didn’t look at me.
Didn’t reach for her coat or ask what time it was or where we’d go next.
She just stared at the edge of the firepit like it owed her an answer.
I’d been awake longer—barely. I hadn’t moved. Sat across from her, boots half-unlaced, elbows resting on my knees like I could pretend I’d slept sitting up. Like I hadn’t spent the night watching her shake in her sleep.
Not from cold.
Once, the spiral under her ribs twitched, and she flinched. No cry. No fight. Just a shallow breath, dragged in like it hurt. She’d learned how to suffer quietly. That silence stayed with her even in dreams.
By morning, the soot beside her had curled into a spiral.
Not drawn.
Not placed.
Formed.
As if the cave remembered her.
I didn’t ask what she saw.
Because if she told me—I wouldn’t stop it. Couldn’t protect her from it. And she didn’t want protection. Not anymore.
Not from me.
No holding. No stopping. No saving.
So I let the silence settle around u
