Page 202 of Silent Shadows

I shrug. “Character growth?”

“Proud of you, and proud to have you with us,” she smiles and nods at me. My eyes go wide and watery, unsure what to do with her pure sincerity. Maya has been the backbone of this team and my constant source of sanity since arriving here. To have this acceptance from her means more than I can say.

But I try.

“Ditto, girl.” I stand and hug her. She freezes for a moment, then her arms find their way around me.

She pulls back, taking a deep breath. “You good?”

I look toward Miles.

He’s listening to Owen explain some cave access issue, brows drawn, one hand at the back of his neck. Serious. Focused. Alive in the work.

Then he glances over.

Finds me.

The tension in his brow softens. Small. Private. Mine.

“Yeah,” I say.

I mean it, for the most part. Fear still thrums faintly under all the excitement and anticipation. Fear of Ridgefield. Of caves. Of how much this place has rearranged me.

Maya follows my gaze and smiles.

“I’m really happy you came back.” The admission is so direct I nearly drop a battery. She avoids my eyes, as if it just hit her how sincere she was.

“Also,” she adds, rubbing at a smudge on the wall, “your misdirection post was evil genius.”

“Well, thank you,” I add a flourish with my hands.

“Don’t let Taylor name the strategy next time.”

I sigh. “Bigfoot Catfish is pretty good, though.”

Maya winces, but her eyes are still smiling.

The sun begins its slow drop toward the western cliffs, turning everything copper and rose. The air shifts with it. Heat drains off stone. Shadows lengthen. The desert cools into that eerie, electric hour before night arrives.

Nobody says much as we load the final bags. The silence feels loaded with everyone’s unspoken fears. Brush rustles beyond camp, and we all look up at the same time. Nothing moves. A raven crosses overhead, wings black against the pale sky.

Jax watches the raven disappear over the ridge. “Bad omen?”

Taylor adjusts the strap on her pack without looking up.

“Depends who you ask.” She glances toward the sky, expression unreadable. “Change. Transformation. Wisdom. Messengers, supposedly. Threshold stuff.”

“Threshold stuff?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Owen butts in, gestures vaguely with one hand. “Like standing in the doorway before your life turns into something else.”

Jax looks between Taylor and Owen, waiting for Taylor to shut him down.

“He’s not wrong. Some people think ravens show up when something’s ending,” she says. “Or starting. Depends on your flavor of emotional damage.”

“That feels ominous,” Jax says.

Owen and Taylor shrug simultaneously while Maya mutters sarcastically behind them, “Sure, let’s not ask the indigenous girl about animal symbolism.”