Morning came dry and sharp, the kind of quiet that follows a storm that didn't quite break everything.
Scarlett stood at the edge of the new tree—its bark still dark, its leaves trembling in the breeze like they weren't sure they were allowed to stay. She'd been there since dawn, watching the way sunlight caught the silver undersides of its leaves, casting shifting patterns on the ground like half-formed thoughts.
She hadn't slept.
Not after last night.
Not after seeing Damien stand beside her without flinching, without demanding, without trying to fix anything. Just… present. Like he was learning how to be human again, one breath at a time.
But presence wasn't enough.
Not when the old hunger still lived in his bones.
"Thought I'd find you here."
She didn't turn. "You always do."
