Too still.
He’d learned long ago that silence could lie.
He scanned the tree line again, slower this time, letting his eyes focus just enough to catch what didn’t belong.
Nothing obvious.
That was the problem.
He stepped back inside and closed the door softly behind him, locking it without taking his eyes off the window.
“Rylie,” he said quietly.
She looked up instantly, reading his tone before the words registered. “What is it?”
“We’ve been tracked.”
Her face paled—but she didn’t panic.
“How do you know?”
“Because I can’t see them,” he replied. “And I should. I don’t hear the usual forest sounds.”
He crossed the room, grabbing his pack and spreading its contents across the table with practiced efficiency. Map. Compass. Burner phone. Extra ammo.
“This place was never meant to be permanent,” he continued. “It bought us time. That’s all.”
Rylie came to stand beside him. “So what’s next?”
The question mattered more than the answer.
She wasn’t asking to be reassured. She was asking to be included.
He met her gaze. “We don’t go back the way we came.”
“Okay.”
“No roads,” he added. “No patterns.”
She nodded. “Off-grid.”
His mouth curved faintly. “You’ve been paying attention.”
“I trust you,” she said simply. “And I always pay attention.”
That landed harder than any fear could. She trusted me to keep her safe.
Trigger folded the map, already reworking the terrain in his head. Thomas would assume he’d push north or double back east toward town.
Which meant he’d do neither.
“There’s an old firebreak ridge about six miles west,” he said. “Steep. No vehicle access. Ugly terrain.”
“Sounds perfect.”
He gave her a look. “It’s going to be rough.”
“I don’t care.”
