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|[chapter thirty-seven]|

" so I try to talk refined for fearthat you find outhow I'm imagining you "

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" so I try to talk refined for fear
that you find out
how I'm imagining you "

" so I try to talk refined for fearthat you find outhow I'm imagining you "

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Wyoming, 2023















































WITHIN MOMENTS OF THE GROUP SETTLING into the fragile serenity of their meal, the atmosphere within the little cottage shifted tangibly. Joel's body tensed, a silent but unmistakable signal that the temporary peace they were enjoying was about to be shattered. With swift, decisive movements, he gestured for Ellie to ascend the stairs, her steps light but quick, disappearing from sight without a word of protest. Colette and Joel moved in unison, a practiced dance born of necessity, as they positioned themselves out of direct view from the entrance. His gun, always within reach, was now firmly in his grip, a grim reminder of the world outside their temporary haven. Despite the occasional jab from Colette about his overcautious instincts, in moments like these, she was silently grateful for them. Her senses, though sharpened by their time on the road, had not detected the approach of the stranger, the telltale crunch of footsteps masked by the howling winds that besieged their refuge. Joel's attention swiftly turned to Miles. With a mix of gentleness and urgency, he maneuvered Miles' weakened form behind the sofa, ensuring that he was hidden from any direct line of sight from the entrance. The makeshift barricade provided scant protection but it was their best option in the cramped space. His movements were silent, a testament to the countless times they had found themselves in similar situations, always teetering on the brink of danger. The older man then turned his gaze towards Colette, his eyes sharp and conveying a depth of seriousness that brooked no argument. He placed a finger to his lips, the universal sign for silence, but the intensity in his eyes added layers to the message: Be ready. Stay safe. Trust me. Colette, understanding the gravity of the situation, nodded imperceptibly, her own resolve steeling within her. There was no room for error, not now, with the unknown intentions of the newcomer pressing in on them like the winter cold.

𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐒 || ʲᵒᵉˡ ᵐⁱˡˡᵉʳWhere stories live. Discover now