Page 91 of Make Out With A Merman

I nod. “Yeah.”

He studies the lake a long time. “Didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t either,” I admit.

He grunts. Not disapproving. Just thoughtful.

“You’re not just muscle,” he says. “Never were. Took you long enough to see it.”

I wait.

He turns toward me, expression carved from stone but eyes sharp.

“This camp’s more than a refuge. It’s a future. And you” he jabs a finger gently against my chest “you’re part of that. I need you to help shape it.”

I nod again, slower this time.

“Thanks,” I say. “For trusting me with it.”

He nods back, once.

Then walks off without another word.

And somehow?

That says everything.

Torack walks off.

But he doesn’t head back toward the admin wing or the ward archives.

He veers toward the garden path behind the mess hall.

Julie’s there, sleeves rolled, hair braided back, holding two mugs of something that’s probably bitter and old and strong as hell.

She hands one to him without a word.

He takes it.

They don’t speak.

They juststand there, side by side, sipping and watching the early morning light rise over the lake.

It’s small.

Still.

Unremarkable to anyone else.

But something about it hits me deep.

The ease of it.

Theknowing.

A partnership that doesn’t need constant fire to burn bright.

I breathe out slow.

---