Once they’re free, I gesture toward the treeline, away fromNash’s position. They move just as quiet as me, their bare feet silent on the forest floor.
But as they reach the edge of the firelight, the woman who was crying before stops. She turns back, and even in the darkness I see more tears streaming down her face, catching in the dark hair matted to her cheek. She mouths two words: “Thank you.”
My knees almost buckle. This is why I’m here…not for the Syndicate’s mission or Arayik’s approval or even my own survival. For this moment; this small act of defiance that might mean the difference between life and death for three people who dared to dream of freedom.
They vanish into the forest, and I pray to every star they make it far before the camp notices. The stars are not on my side tonight, because as I trudge toward my bedroll, I freeze.
Elias.
He stands at the center of camp, his silhouette unmistakable even without the dying firelight to illuminate his features. My heart flips as our eyes meet across the space between us.
Time stops.
He saw everything. I’m caught, exposed, and more than finished.
My hand drifts toward my knife, though I know it’s useless. Elias is faster, stronger, better trained. If he raises the alarm, I’ll be dead before I can take three steps. But maybe—maybe I can take him with me. Buy the escapees enough time to get clear before the others wake.
But my squad leader doesn’t move. Doesn’t shout. Doesn’t reach for his weapon.
He just stares at me, and in that gaze something flashes that makes my world tilt on its axis: conflict. Pain. A battle playing out behind his eyes that mirrors my own internal war as his fists clenchrepeatedly.
Seconds stretch into eternity, my breathing impossibly loud. Nash continues his patrol, oblivious to the drama unfolding thirty feet away. The fire crackles and pops, casting drowsy shadows that mock the stillness between Elias and me.
Then, slowly, deliberately, Elias turns his head away.
He peers into the forest where the prisoners vanished, then back at the empty trees where they should be sitting. His jaw works, as if he’s having a conversation with himself. His struggle is palpable.
When he finally regards me again, there’s something different in his expression. A kind of resigned understanding which forms an ache in my chest.
He knows what I’ve done. And he’s choosing to let it happen.
Elias steps away, retreating until he’s ducked into his tent once more. His presence lingers under my skin, a reminder that my secret is no longer mine alone.
I force my legs to carry me back to my bedroll, each step like walking through a lake of mud. My hands tremble as I grip rough fabric, dragging the blanket up to my chin with mechanical movements—disconnected the same way my mind is.
Elias witnessed me committing treason; watched me free prisoners that the Syndicate considers valuable assets. By all rights, he should have put a bullet in my head the moment I cut those ties.
Why didn’t he?
The question gnaws at me as I stare sightlessly at the stars that lost their beauty. What does his silence mean? Sympathy? Some kind of test I don’t understand? Or is he simply waiting for a better moment to expose me?
Tomorrow, when Arayik discovers the missing prisoners, I must be prepared for Elias to step forward with the truth. Todescribe exactly what he saw, who was responsible, and how the escape was accomplished.
The thought sours my stomach. Suddenly, the confidence I’d felt with my choice dwindles to mere threads.
But as I close my eyes and try to find sleep, I see the woman’s face again. The gratitude in her eyes. That moment of hope blooming through her previously imminent despair.
It was worth it.
Whatever comes next, whatever price I have to pay, it was worth it.
I want to be scared…to fear the consequences of my actions.
Instead, I’ve learned change isn’t something you plan for. It happens in the moments when you accept that speaking up costs more than remaining silent, but do it anyway. When you know that standing while those around you kneel is dangerous, yet still find the courage to rise and face your oppressors.
Thatis how change begins.
If Elias chooses to expose me tomorrow, and my time here ends in execution or worse, at least I’ll know I didn’t just watch.
