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We duck inside.
Silence crashes in around us again.
I brace a hand against the rock.
Breathe.
Once.
Twice.
Control it.
“You’re hit,” Mila says.
Not a question.
“Just a graze,” I reply.
Lie.
Not a great one.
Her eyes narrow.
“Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sit,” she repeats, sharper this time.
I almost argue.
Then—
The ground shifts just enough to remind me I’m losing blood.
Yeah.
Okay.
I sit.
Carefully.
And just like that—
Everything changes.
Mila
Of course.
Of course he got shot.
Because apparently, that’s how this night is going.
“Just a graze,” he says.
