The fishing boat scraped against stone as Lin eased the throttle down to a whisper. The engine sputtered, coughed, then died, leaving only the sound of waves lapping against the narrow dock. Mist clung to everything—rock, wood, skin. The world was still, muffled, as if holding its breath after the chaos they had just outrun.
Keller stretched his legs, joints popping. "Hell of a ride." His voice was quiet, but there was a rough edge to it, like he was testing whether the silence itself might bite back.
Min-joon stood, one hand braced against the crate, his other pressed to his side where a graze had darkened his shirt with blood. He waved Lin's look of concern away. "I'll live."
