Page 32 of Blood, Shadow & Claw

Kayla's eyes flickered with a brief spark of interest. "I used to be pretty good at that," she confided, a ghost of a smile touching her lips.

"Used to be?" I teased, nudging another stone her way. "Sounds like a challenge."

She hesitated, then gave in to the moment, her throw smooth and practiced—five skips, each one a perfect leap. "Wow," I said, genuinely impressed. "You've got skills."

"Thanks." Her voice was soft, but I caught the hint of pride. "My dad taught me."

"Your dad," I echoed, careful not to push too hard. "He must have been quite the stone-skipping master."

The mention of her father seemed to open a door, and Kayla's guard dropped a fraction. "He was great," she murmured, her fingers tracing circles in the dirt. "Both my parents were. They loved nature. We'd camp, hike, do all sorts of outdoor stuff together."

"Sounds amazing," I said, keeping my tone light even as I sensed the shadow of loss behind her words. "Do you still go hiking and camping?"

"Not really. Not since..." She trailed off, her gaze anchored to the stream as if the flowing water could wash away the weight of her following words.

"Since when?" I prompted gently, allowing her to share whatever she wanted to.

"Since they were killed," she uttered so softly it was nearly lost in the rustle of leaves around us. "Hunters. They thought my parents were just animals."

My heart clenched, a knot forming in my throat as I absorbed the raw pain laced through her simple statement. The world can be brutal, and I was sitting next to a girl who had experienced that truth firsthand.

"Kayla, I am so sorry," I whispered, my losses resonating with hers, amplifying the ache in my chest. "That's an awful thing for anyone to go through."

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Yeah," she breathed, a single tear breaking free to trace a path down her cheek. "But I guess I've learned that life goes on, even when you don't want it to."

"Life's stubborn like that," I agreed, resisting the urge to wrap her in a hug. Instead, I plucked another stone from the ground, offering it to her as a distraction and a symbol of continuity. "Want to teach me how to get more than three skips?"

A small laugh escaped her, and she accepted the stone. "Sure," she said, her voice steadier. "Just watch closely."

As we threw stones and talked about trivial things—like the best type of sneakers for running from trouble or the tastiest way to cook marshmallows—there was a healing kind of magic in the air. Nature has that power, I thought. To comfort, two blind strangers together over the shared loss and find friendship. And maybe, just maybe, to help a broken girl skip stones again.

"Look at that one," I said, pointing to a stone that skimmed across the stream's surface, bouncing six times before sinking into the murky depths. "Six skips! You're a natural."

Kayla's laugh was like the tinkling of wind chimes, delicate yetresonant in the quiet of the woods. "You're doing great, Mazie. It just takes time.”

"I'm just thankful for the great company," I quipped with a wink, but my heart swelled watching the joy dance in her eyes—a stark contrast to the sorrow they held moments ago.

"Thank you... for listening," she said, her gaze dropping to the pebbles between her feet.

"Anytime, kiddo." I scooped up another handful of stones and offered them to her. "Everyone needs an ear now and then. And I've got two that are pretty good at their job."

"Most adults don't..." she trailed off, fiddling with a remarkably smooth stone. "They don't usually care what kids have to say."

"Most adults forget they were kids once," I shrugged, tossing another stone. That's a big mistake. Kids see the world without all the messy filters."

"Filters like what?" Kayla asked, a curious tilt to her head.

"Like fear, prejudice, or too many bad experiences," I explained. "Sometimes, those things cloud judgment, make it hard to see what's important."

"Like skipping stones and eating marshmallows?" Her voice was playful, but there was a weight behind the words.

"Exactly like that." I smiled.

Our moment of shared understanding was abruptly shattered by the sound of snapping twigs and the rustle of leaves. We both turned toward the disturbance to find Raylene Thompson emerging from the shadows of the trees, her stern expression cutting through the tranquility like a knife.

"Kayla Jenkins!" Raylene's voice boomed across the clearing, her gray eyes zeroing in on Kayla with an intensity that made me uneasy.

"Raylene,"Kayla responded, standing up quickly and dropping her collection of stones. The joy had vanished from her face as if wiped clean by fear.

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