Page 96 of Wolf's Chance

When he had lifted the sketchbook, I had seen the tremble in his hands, the paper crumpling with his grip. His breathinghad been shallow and ragged, coming from him in bursts, and I realized he wasn’tjustangry and upset, he washurting. Hurting deeply. The kind of pain that coated your bones and that no time or distance could ever remove.

Or heal.

I had questions—God, I had so many questions—but how do you ask a man who has just shattered in front of you to answer them?

My heart was still racing, and I berated myself for being so incredibly blind. How had I not seen the damage I was doing to him? No wonder he wanted far away from me; every time I sketched him or a scene from his past, I was tearing open his wounds. How was he supposed to heal and move on with his life if I was constantly reminding him of what he had lost?

I’d told him I hadn’t known, and he had turned to me, his eyes dark and devastated, and asked me how I could have known. As if that wiped clean the damage I had done.

His words had given me no comfort, and I deserved none.

Caleb’s tone had been flat, devoid of emotion, but I hadn’t sensed blame, but heshouldblame me, because Ihadknown, hadn’t I? Not the details, not the horror that I knew now, but I’d seen the haunted look in his eyes, the way he kept himself distant, never fully mingling with anyone. He kept his secrets close, and I’d been so wrapped up in myself, desperate for my own answers, that I hadn’t really seen how I was affecting him. But I knew it was more than a man who kept himself to himself.

I had known.

I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, because this wasn’t about me or my guilt. This was about Caleb, about theman who fought for me and protected me, all while he carried the weight of a past I may never fully understand.

Would sayingsorryever be enough? It sounded hollow in my head, and I knew I could never apologize enough to him. I had dug up his feelings, ones long since buried, and I’d dragged it all to the surface.

My only consolation, and it was a very small one in light of this morning’s events, was that his past was never gone. It had all been there, festering within him, and I believed that it needed to be let out, but I didn’t think I was the person to bring it screaming into the light.

He’d told me he needed space, and I knew it would take a while for him to process it all before he came back, probably dreading what else I would be ready to show him.

He’d walked out of the room a different man than the one who had entered this morning, and I swore to myself I would do whatever it took to help him through this. He was alone and he didn’t need to be.

He had me.

I was all in, and I would do whatever he asked of me to help him face his past. I was sure that wouldn’t be a comfort to Caleb, but I knew that he deserved to heal, and I would do whatever it took to make that happen.

Which is why I did the one thing they had asked me not to. I stepped outside my room and went looking for answers.

When I had been brought here, I’d been so angry with Caleb I hadn’t paid any attention to my surroundings until I was alone in my room with the promise tostaystill fresh in my ears.

The hallway looked military. The walls curved slightly,giving the impression of a cylinder, and I had a fleeting moment of hysteria as I imagined being inside the barrel of a giant gun, just waiting for someone to pull the trigger.

Was the someone me?

It was an absurd thought. I was no one to these people, but still, the feeling thatIwas the danger stuck with me as I walked down the empty corridor.

The fluorescent lights above me hummed with electricity, their brightness causing my tired eyes to wish for sunglasses or, at the very least, a dimmer switch. The hallway had impressive acoustics. Every step seemed to echo, and as I crashed along the hallway, I marveled at how I couldn’t hear Caleb or any of the others when they approached my room.

The further I went, the more I told myself this was a bad idea. Was I walking deeper into trouble?

A door opened and Doc came out of the room, looking surprised to see me as I came to an abrupt halt on seeing him.

“Willow? Are you okay?”

Was I? I didn’t think I could answer that truthfully. “Caleb’s gone for a walk.”

Doc looked over his shoulder, and following his line of sight, I saw stairs ahead. “Okay, and you”—he paused uncertainly—“want to go for a walk?”

I was going to say no, I wanted answers, but his question made me pause. Did I want some exercise? I’d been in here for three days. “Yes, I want to go outside.”

Doc didn’t even blink. He simply turned around and started to walk to the entrance, or was it an exit? Either way, I followed closely behind, the weight of what I’d done to Caleb pressing in on me until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

When Doc pushed the door to the outside open, I practically shoved him aside, desperate for fresh air. I almost tripped over my own feet in my haste to put distance between me and the bunker as I blinked in the brightness, inhaling a deep breath of clean air, relishing the freshness.

Doc hung back, giving me the space I so desperately needed. I walked a few steps from the bunker door. The grass was soft and damp beneath my feet, reminding me I had no socks or shoes on, and my feet were going to protest soon as the chill got to them. The smell of pine and earth mixed with the crisp morning smell, and I breathed in deeper.

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