Page 188 of Silent Shadows

Another click and I show the team a comment thread where people are discussing Grant’s team being one step ahead in the game.

The last click reveals a freeze frame of a clip I spotted last night. There's a person carrying what looks like a rolled-up ghillie suit, but when I zoom in further, a massive rubber foot hangs out of the duffel bag.

Taylor swears under her breath.

Owen mutters something deeply threatening.

“So,” I say, forcing professionalism because emotional vulnerability feels illegal. “Good news.”

Taylor narrows her eyes.

“There’s good news?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I say. “I have a plan.”

I shut the laptop and start talking. The plan. Narrative control. Ethical fandom. Fake-outs. Ambiguous geography.

Protecting the mystery means protecting the people. Protecting the land. Protecting the story.

And it also means making Ridgefield chase ghosts.

Halfway through explaining the strategy, I realize everyone’s staring at me. Jax looks impressed, and Taylor looks pleased. Owen just has a small smile, nodding along.

“So what does this mean for you, Daisy?” Taylor asks, turning to me. “Beyond Miles or anything. What about the show?”

Maya looks at me with a knowing smile. “Are you going to tell them?”

I shrug and tell them all about the imprint, the plans, and all of the things that have happened over the past week to make it so I could be back here with them.

“Well, shit,” Jax laughs.

Heat rises behind my cheeks.

“Yeah,” I say with a hesitant smile, wondering if this is all okay. Trying to lighten the mood, I add, “You did say once you catch STD, it kind of sticks with you.”

Taylor breaks into a huge smile. “Happy you’re here, girl,” she says, squeezing me in a hug. Maya bends down and joins in, followed by Jax. Owen just stands there awkwardly.

Then, the RV door opens.

Bootsteps sound on the steps.

Jax visibly perks up like a demon. “Ohhhh, timing.”

I hate him. All the goodwill he just earned is gone.

The door opens and Miles steps inside.

Wet hair.

Flannel half unbuttoned.

Coffee in hand.

Tired, distracted, and fucking beautiful in a way that feels unfair.

He stops in his tracks and lowers the mug.

Silence.