I shifted, propping myself up on one arm to look at him. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
“And in the morning?” I asked. “You’ll still watch me drive away?”
His silence answered before he could.
Eventually, sleep pulled me under before I could ask the question again.
Chapter 30
Maybe Is Not a Plan
NICK
At0527,thefirsttransport engine coughed awake below my cabin window.
The sound climbed through the floorboards in a low, uneven vibration and settled behind my ribs. Diesel. Cold metal. Morning air not yet warmed by the sun. The kind of hour when the reserve held its breath before the birds started lying to everyone about a fresh start.
I sat against the headboard with my left leg bent, my right stretched out, and my forearm bandaged from wrist to elbow. The gauze pulled every time I flexed my hand. Dried antiseptic tightened the skin beneath it. My shirt hung over the chair by the foot of the bed where I had dropped it sometime after Juliette had stopped shaking and started sleeping.
She lay on her side beside me, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, hair loose across the pillow, the sheet pulled high over one shoulder. The gray light softened nothing about her. Even asleep, Juliette Wilder looked like someone who had negotiated with exhaustion and allowed it temporary access under strict conditions.
The radio sat on the small table near the bed. Silent for now.
Below, the engine turned over again.
I knew the schedule. First vehicle staged at 0530. Second at 0545. Front escort through the south road, rear escort staggered by three minutes. Bags checked before loading. Manifest confirmed against departure order. Gate opened only after Daniel cleared the bend beyond the low causeway.
Juliette was on the first vehicle.
My call.
My lie dressed well enough to pass inspection.
The mattress shifted beside me. Juliette’s breathing changed before she moved, that small catch between sleep and awareness. Her fingers curled against the pillow. Then her eyes opened.
She did not startle. Of course she didn’t. She looked at me, then the door, then the radio, then my bare chest and the bandage. Her mouth tightened by a fraction.
“You should sleep,” she said.
My throat had gone rough from disuse. “So should you.”
Her gaze held mine. “That is not an answer.”
“It’s the one I’ve got.”
The corner of her mouth moved, without becoming a smile. “Efficient. Unsatisfying.”
“Consistent.”
Static broke from the table.
I did not look at it.
“Base to Mercer,” Sarah said. “First vehicle is staged.”
Juliette went still.
Outside, someone shut a vehicle door. A low voice carried across the courtyard, too muffled to distinguish words. The lodge had begun moving again. Staff on half sleep. Guests managed into polite alarm. Rangers pretending fatigue was a scheduling issue.
