CHAPTER 27

Crossroads

The fire was low in its pit, just dying embers which were throwing flickering shadows around camp. The tension of it permeated the atmosphere-it was in everyone's hair.

Flora sat cross-armed on a log, staring across at the man opposite her. Adrian loitered near the edge of camp, his shoulders tense, hands buried deep in his pockets. He wasn't really there-not in the way it counted. His mind was elsewhere, somewhere darker.

"Adrian," she said, her tone even.

He didn't turn.

She huffed through her nose, trying to keep down the frustration. "You can't just keep pushing me away."

"I'm not," he muttered, but there was no weight behind it.

Flora's fingers curled into fists. "Then what do you call this?"

A beat of silence. Then, finally, he turned. His face was unreadable, his expression carved from stone. "I call it handling things."

"Dealing with it," she echoed flatly. "Right. Because shutting everyone out and brooding in the dark is such a solid plan."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait.

She stood, moving closer. "Look, I get it. Elias-what he did-it messed with your head. But you don't have to do this alone."

He let out a hallow laugh. "Don't I?"

Flora's stomach twisted. This wasn't just about Elias.

It was about everything: the mission, the betrayal, the things left unsaid.

She relaxed her stance, her voice softer now. "Adrian… what did he mean? About the massacre?"

His whole body went rigid.

The reaction was all the confirmation she needed.

Flora felt her heart pound. "Tell me."

Adrian turned away again, staring out into the darkness beyond camp. For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then, his voice, low and rough:

I wasn't always the hero you think I am."

Flora waited, letting the silence stretch between them.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that." His voice came out hoarse, as if the words pained him to say. "We were sent in to take out a threat. That's what they told us. We followed orders. We did what we were trained to do. And when the dust settled, when the bodies hit the ground… we realized we'd been played."

Flora's breath caught.

Adrian turned then, and for the first time in a long time, she saw it-the guilt, the weight of it, pressing down on him like an invisible force.

"They weren't soldiers," he said, his voice no more than a whisper. "They were civilians. Innocents."

Flora's throat went dry.

Adrian's fists clenched at his sides. "And I was the one who led the charge."

The words hung heavy between them, the only sound that of fire crackling.

Flora swallowed, searching for something to say, something that wouldn't sound empty. "That wasn't your fault," she said finally. "You didn't know."

"That doesn't change what happened." His voice was raw. "Doesn't change the blood on my hands."

Flora took a step forward. "And shutting me out-shutting everyone out-is supposed to fix that?"

Adrian shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Nothing fixes it.

She hated this. Hated seeing him like this-like he was drowning and didn't care enough to fight his way back to the surface.

"Elias knew," she said. "That's why he said it, why he threw it in your face."

Adrian exhaled sharply. "Yeah. He knew." His eyes darkened. "He was there."

Flora blinked. "What?"

Adrian hesitated, then shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't," she snapped. "If he was there, then-

"Then he made his choice," Adrian cut in. "Just like I made mine."

Flora studied him. "And what choice is that?"

He didn't say.

She took a step forward, close enough to catch the flash of something—doubt? Fear? —across his face.

"Tell me,” She urged.

Adrian's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know yet."

That scared her more than anything.

They didn't speak the rest of that night.

Adrian remained staring into the fire, preoccupied with his thoughts, while Flora sat off to the side, fidgeting with cleaning her weapon. Every now and then, she'd look up at him, but he never returned the Favor.

Much later, Rhea ambled into camp, looking from one to the other and letting out a sigh. "Well. This is depressing."

Flora rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the insight.

Rhea let herself fall onto a log, stretching out her legs. "Look, I get the whole 'brooding warrior' thing, but perhaps mix it up a little? You're making the air heavy."

Adrian made a dry chuckle; it was the first real sound he'd made in hours. "Noted."

Rhea raised an eyebrow. "So, are we gonna talk about how that mission went to hell? Or are we all just pretending we didn't almost die?

Flora shot her a look. "Read the room, Rhea."

"Oh, I read it." She leaned forward. "And it says 'unresolved trauma and trust issues.'"

Flora groaned. "Can you not?"

Rhea smirked. "What? I'm just saying, we should probably figure out what our next move is before we all kill each other."

She had a point.

Adrian exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Elias won't stop here. He's playing a long game.

Flora scowled. "Then we need to figure out what he's after."

Adrian nodded. "And stop him before he gets it."

Rhea raised an eyebrow. "And what if that means facing your past?"

Adrian didn't bat an eye. "Then I face it."

Flora studied him, trying to see if that really was an option.

"Okay," Rhea said, standing. "Then let's begin planning. Because something is telling me that time is running short."

None spoke against the thought.

They had come to the crossroads.

Now, they had a choice to make.