The ride back to the packhouse was silent except for the hum of the engine and the occasional sigh of Kimberly’s thoughts. Her knuckles were white around the edge of her seat, and she kept glancing at Martha beside her. The woman looked composed, almost fragile, her hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes downcast. Yet Kimberly could feel it — the subtle calculated precision behind the act. "You’re awfully quiet, Kimberly," Martha said softly, breaking the tension with a small, tremulous voice. "I hope I didn’t frighten you too much back there… I know I wasn’t much help, really. I just…" Her hand fluttered near her collarbone, fingers trembling in a delicate, vulnerable gesture. "I didn’t know what to do." Kimberly’s brow furrowed. She forced a polite smile, though her mind was racing. Too perfect. Too intentional. "You did fine," Kimberly said evenly, her tone neutral. "We managed." Martha’s eyes glistened faintly. "I still feel… I should have done more. You were amazing out t
Last Updated : 2025-10-19 Read more