Cane's POV
The walls of the cabin were starting to feel like they were breathing in, getting closer every day. We had a routine. A good one. A strong one. Steph worked me until my muscles screamed. Henry drilled the kids until they could spot a lying squirrel at fifty paces. Mabel and Mara kept the place running, food cooked, clothes mended.
But it was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that lets fear grow roots in your mind.
It was Mara who finally said it out loud. She was chopping carrots with more force than necessary. "I'm going to start chewing on the furniture soon."
Leo looked up from cleaning a gun. "What?"
"I'm bored, Leo," she said, not stopping her chopping. Thwack. Thwack. "I understand. We're hiding. We're preparing. Blah, blah. But we're also living. Or we're supposed to be." She put the knife down and looked at all of us. "Sitting here waiting for the storm doesn't mean we have to stop feeling the sun."
Henry chuckled. "What'cha got in mind, girl?"
