Page 29 of Her Shadow

He turned, startled by the venom in her tone. One of the other men, short and broad-shouldered with a thick beard, met her head-on. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her in his direction, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Kara? What’s the matter?”

“You knew, didn’t you? You all knew,” she repeated, stepping back and shaking her head. “It wasn’t Sam! You knew it was your kids. You must have! And you said nothing? You didn’t think to go talk to the captain about this?”

The shorter man’s face darkened, his expression hardening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I found the stash,” she yelled. “In the old huts. Your kids have been stealing supplies—food, weapons—everything Sam was accused of. And you let her take the fall.”

The man’s eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe—but he quickly masked it with anger. “Just watch your tone, Kara,”he growled. “My kids didn’t do this. You’re going to have to show me.”

“I’ve got all the proof I need,” Kara snapped. “I found the supplies. I found everything. Do you think you can cover for them? Sam is out there alone!”

The man’s face twisted into a sneer. “They’re just kids, Kara,” he spat. “They didn’t mean any harm. It was just a silly mistake.”

“Mistake?” Kara’s voice was rising now, filled with disbelief. “A mistake? Sam was banished because of them. She’s out there alone, facing God knows what, and you call it amistake?”

The tension in the air was palpable, crackling between them like electricity. The other parents had gathered around, watching the confrontation with wide eyes, but none of them spoke. Kara knew she was losing the battle.

“I’m going after her,” she said. “And when I bring her back, everyone is going to know the truth.”

Kara stood there trembling, her heart hammering so loud it seemed to echo in the hollow silence around her. The parents were staring, faces red with anger and embarrassment, but she didn’t care. Not anymore. Not about them, not about anything but Sam. She hadn’t even realized what she was saying until it had come out, but now the truth of it burned in her gut.

I’m going after her.

A cold dread settled in Kara’s chest, as heavy as a stone pressing down on her lungs, making it hard to breathe. She turned away from the parents, ignoring the shouting that rose behind her as they scrambled to justify themselves, to cover up what they’d allowed to happen. None of it mattered. She’d wasted enough time trying to convince people who didn’t care about the truth. She needed to get her bag before she set off.

Sam was out there because of her and she had to at leasttryto find her.

The ground felt uneven beneath her feet as she began to walk. Her arms hung heavy by her sides, her fingers curling and uncurling in erratic spasms. Inside, it felt as if something foreign was crawling beneath her skin—muscles tensing and releasing in a rhythm she couldn’t control. Her chest tightened, not with sharp pain, but a slow, relentless pressure, as if the air itself had turned solid, pressing inward from all sides.

Jesus! Am I having a panic attack?

As she reached the gate, the weight of what she was about to do hit her full force. She had never ventured beyond those walls alone. It was one thing to go out with a team, armed and prepared. It was something else entirely to face it solo.

A wave of fear crashed over her, and for a split second, she was paralyzed.

What if I can’t find Sam? What if Sam’s already…?

Kara couldn’t even finish the thought. The images that flashed in her mind were too much. Sam, alone, wandering through the wilderness, her skin pale and cold, her eyes glassy, a lifeless shell of the woman Kara loved.

God, why didn’t I go after her sooner?

Kara’s mind drifted back to a moment from her childhood, a memory she had buried deep, but one that clawed its way back to the surface now, raw and vivid.

She had been twelve, standing in the middle of a crowded room, heart pounding as she tried to explain to her father what had happened. She had seen something—something bad—out by the woods. A group of older kids, maybe sixteen or seventeen, doing something they shouldn’t have been. They had taken a younger boy, a neighbor, and pushed him into the creek, laughing as he struggled to get out, the current pulling at him. Kara had been the only one who’d seen, the only one who’d tried to help. She had run to her father.

But he hadn’t believed her.

“You’re just imagining things, Kara,” he had said, his voice firm but dismissive. “You’ve got a wild imagination. You didn’t see what you think you saw.”

Kara had protestedand tried to make him understand, but he wouldn’t listen. Later, when the boy’s parents came to their house, it was her father who smoothed things over and told them there was no need to worry. He told them kids would be kids, and Kara had probably just misinterpreted what she thought she’d seen.

No one had believed her.

She had been powerless back then. Her voice wasdrowned out by the authority of a trusted adult who refused to listen. Years later, she’d found herself in the same position—powerless to stop the injustice that had been done to Sam.

But this time, it was different. This time, Kara wasn’t a child. She could do something.

She took a deep breath, her chest expanding painfully as she inhaled, and then she reached out, her hand steady this time, and pulled open the gate. The guard tried to advise her not to, but she didn’t care.

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