And somewhere in all of that, I need to figure out if what we started is worth fighting for, or if she's right that the smartest thing is to let it go before anyone else gets hurt.
I already know my answer.
I'm just not sure it matters if she's already made up her mind.
five
Hazel
Ibarelysleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Travis's face when I told him I used him. The way something shuttered in his expression, like I'd confirmed what he already feared.
I'm a coward. That's the truth of it. I pushed him away because I'm terrified of caring about someone who might die, and pushing people away is easier than admitting I'm falling for a convoy coordinator with a hero complex who makes me want to believe the world can be better than it is.
The guilt sits heavy in my chest as morning breaks. I help pack up camp in silence, avoiding Travis's eyes even though I can feel him watching me. Waiting for... what? An apology? An explanation?
I don't have one that doesn't make me sound pathetic.
We ride for three hours in uncomfortable silence. I'm back on Eric's ATV, putting physical distance between myself and the conversation I need to have but can't figure out how to start.
Then Old Pines appears through the trees.
My stomach drops.
I've been here a dozen times over the past year. Delivered supplies, trained their volunteer medics, shared meals with families who trusted my crew to keep the routes safe. The radio tower is new since my last visit—part of Cole and Sierra's expanding network.
But everything else is painfully familiar.
Somewhere in there are Eleanor and James, Reggy's parents, who I promised would see their son again. Maria, Susan's sister, who I swore I'd keep safe. Emma, Tommy's little sister, who asked me to teach her brother everything I knew.
The people I failed.
"You okay?" Eric asks, slowing the ATV as we approach the gate.
"No." The honesty surprises us both. "But I have to do this anyway."
Tom meets us at the gate, his weathered face lighting up when he sees Travis, then going carefully neutral when his gaze shifts to me. He knows. The moment he sees me without my crew, sees the medical supply packs still strapped to the ATV, he knows.
"Hazel." His voice is gentle. Too gentle. "We've been trying to raise you for over a week."
"They're gone, Tom." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "All of them. Raider ambush three days north of here."
His face crumbles, and I see him age ten years in a second. Tom coordinated our deliveries, knew every member of my crew by name, joked with Reggy about his terrible coffee and listened to Susan's accounting rants.
"I'm sorry," he says, and the weight of it nearly breaks me. "Jesus, Hazel. I'm so sorry."
The gates open, and I know what's coming. Word will spread fast. Within minutes, everyone will know. The families who'vebeen waiting, checking the horizon, telling themselves we were just delayed.
They're about to learn the truth.
My legs almost give out.
"I need to talk to them," I hear myself say. My hands are shaking. "About what happened."
"You don't have to do that alone," Travis says quietly. It's the first time he's spoken directly to me since last night.
"Yes. I do." I meet his eyes finally, and the concern there almost breaks me. "This is my responsibility."
