Page 102 of Wreckage

They looked tense, as if they were waiting for me to ask. Waiting for something terrible.

My chest tightened.

“Where did you get this?” I asked slowly.

A look passed between them, something brief but heavy, something that sent a cold chill through my blood.

Adrian cleared his throat, his eyes flickering away.

“We found a deer,” he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes, watching him. “A deer?”

He nodded. “Wolves must have taken it down. We just-we took what was left.”

My stomach sank.

Something about the way he said it—something about the way they both refused to meet my eyes—felt wrong.

But I was too tired to press it. And I was too scared of the answer.

So I swallowed my unease, forcing myself to nod.

I finished eating, even though my body still ached, and the food felt like it was prolonging the inevitable.

I still felt like I was dying.

Maybe I was.

I let out a slow breath and whispered, “I think I just need more sleep.”

Neither of them argued.

And I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse.

I closed my eyes, sinking back into the warmth of the blankets, letting exhaustion pull me down.

When I woke again,the fire lowered, casting soft golden flickers against the metal walls.

Troy and Adrian sat near it, speaking in low, hushed whispers.

Something about their voices sent a wave of dread through me.

I swallowed hard.

“Troy…? Adrian?”

They both went still before they turned toward me, moving closer.

Adrian knelt beside me first, his fingers brushing my forehead lightly, checking my temperature out of habit.

Troy sat at my other side, his green eyes full of something I couldn’t quite place.

Something heavy.

I licked my lips, my mouth dry. “What were you talking about?”

Another look passed between them, another silent conversation.

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