Movement at the cabin window catches my eye.
Rhys is standing at the glass.
He sees me out here and clocks me like he clocks everything—immediate, complete. His expression is unreadable through the glass. Then he steps back from the window, giving me space.
Letting it be what it is. My moment, my fear, my morning.
I look back at the woods.
"Malcolm?"
I turn.
Vee stands at the edge of the porch wrapped in a blanket.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Fine."
The lie tastes bitter.
She walks down the steps and crosses the wet grass to where I'm standing.
"You're not fine," she says.
I don't answer.
"Is it Drake?" she asks.
"Yes."
She's quiet. "I know it's hard for you. Seeing him here."
"Hard doesn't cover it."
"I'm sorry."
I look at her. "Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I know watching me take care of him hurts you."
The honesty of it hurts.
"It doesn't mean I'll forgive him," she adds. "Taking care of him. It doesn't mean—"
"I know," I say and the words come out rough. "I know that."
She looks up at me and waits.
The silence stretches.
"It's not just Drake," I admit. "Looking at him reminds me of how badly I failed."
Her head tilts. "What do you mean?"
"We waited too long." The confession spills out. "Alex and I. Finn. We should have moved on you sooner. Or told you thetruth at least. We shouldn't have let Ragon's pack hurt you for so long."
"You were in an impossible situation," she says.
