“Do you need—?”
“I’m fine.” The word comes out clipped. She straightens, shoulders rigid. “Just keep walking.”
I want to close the distance. Want to touch her shoulder, her face, anything to bridge the space I created with my wrongness this morning.
I don’t move.
She’s right to be angry. Right to reject my help after I took what wasn’t offered.
I turn back to the path.
The silence that follows is different from yesterday’s easy quiet. This one has edges. Every unspoken word between us pulls it tighter.
I try to find something to say. An apology more substantial than this morning’s hollow formality. An explanation for the inexplicable.
But what can I say?
I’m sorry I kissed you while dreaming of someone I can’t remember?
Forgive me for wanting you with a desperation that makes no sense, considering I’ve known you for three days?
I wish I could explain, though I don’t have answers for myself?
All true. All useless.
The haunting question circles back: Who did I think she was?
A memory surfaces—rain hitting stone, the scent of burning, a woman’s laugh that made something in my chest ease. Then grief, sharp as a blade.
I reach for the memory desperately. Try to hold it long enough to see her face, hear her name, understand—
It dissolves…
Gone.
The ache that follows is physical. Loss for someone I can’t remember.
I flex my hands. Add it to the growing list of questions without answers.
The path steepens. I navigate by instinct, feet finding purchase without conscious thought. Behind me, Mara’s breathing grows labored, exhaustion in every step.
I slow slightly.
“I said I’m fine,” she snaps. “Stop hovering.”
The dismissal stings more than it should.
I maintain the pace and try not to feel the weight of her judgment pressing between my shoulder blades.
God, you’re a fool.
We climb for another hour. The air thins. My body adjusts automatically—breathing deeper, heart rate steady, temperature rising to compensate.
Not normal.
I know this. Have known it since I woke in these mountains with capabilities I can’t explain.
But knowing doesn’t make understanding any easier.
