LOGIN“Because I don’t want you walking blind.”I tell them the paths that avoid known conflict zones. I mark them on a rough map, fold it carefully, and hand it to the father. I give them supplies anyway. Food. Water. A med kit.“If you change your mind,” I add, “this is where you can find us.”The daugh
They arrive at dawn.Not in a flood this time. No frantic rush spilling across the border like a wound torn open. Just a handful of figures moving quietly out of the trees, exhausted in the way that tells me they’ve already burned through whatever panic kept them upright through the night.Smaller n
When I finally speak, my voice doesn’t rise. It doesn’t shake. It doesn’t carry heat.“I’d like to clarify something,” I say.The table quiets.Not instantly. Not dramatically. But enough. A few brows lift. Mild curiosity flickers across faces that haven’t yet realized the ground beneath them has st
The meeting is held in a lodge that smells like old wood and older confidence.Not rot. Not decay. Confidence. The kind that’s been burnished by time and never questioned long enough to start believing it’s permanent. The floors are polished smooth by decades of boots that assumed they belonged ther
I leave before anyone can thank me.Back at the house, I peel my clothes off like they’re contaminated. Dirt streaks the floor. Blood stains my hands where I didn’t notice grabbing the stretcher. I stare at my palms too long before turning the shower on as hot as it will go.I step under it without
By the third unanswered call, the silence stops feeling like rest and starts feeling like avoidance.I let the phone vibrate itself tired on the counter while I brush my teeth, foam sliding minty and sharp across my tongue. The bathroom light hums faintly overhead. Too bright. Too honest. The mirror







