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“Nope. No questions, no explanations.” She straightens, hands on her hips, looking like a teacher dealing with particularly slow students. “Just get in, boys. Time’s wasting.”

The gondola sits suspended over the cliff edge, rails disappearing into the mist below. Small, built for a maximum of four people, but with guys our size, two is the practical limit.

“Alright, you heard her.” Ethan steps toward the boarding platform. “Rigel, you’re with me. We’ll go first.”

They climb into the gondola, the small car swaying slightly under their combined weight. Mitzy operates the controls, and the car slides smoothly down the track, disappearing into the fog that clings to the cliff face.

The rest of us spread out along the platform, settling in for what’s obviously going to be a long wait. The thing’s got to go all the way down, unload, then climb back up before the next pair can go.

“So what’s the betting pool on what Mitzy found?” I move toward Hank. We always pair up for shit like this, but Hank steps to the side, putting distance between us as he examines the gondola mechanism. Not looking at me.

He walks away to stand near Forest and Doc Summers.

What the fuck? I thought we were good.

The gondola reappears through the mist, empty now, as it climbs slowly back toward the platform. Ten minutes, maybe twelve. This is going to take forever.

Blake and Forest step toward the gondola as it reaches the top, climbing in without ceremony. The car descends again into the fog.

“Anyone else think this gondola’s moving slower than usual?” I ask the group when the conversation lulls.

“Seems normal to me,” Walt says, watching the cables.

“Could just feel slow because we’re waiting,” Paul adds.

The gondola returns. Doc Summers and CJ climb in next.

Now there’s fewer of us—Hank, Walt, Carter, Mac, Brady, Jenny, Paul, and me. Eight people waiting. Mac and Brady go down next. Then Jenny and Paul.

Four of us are left waiting up top. The space feels bigger now, the silence more pointed.

“Think the waves are getting rougher?” I ask.

“Hard to tell from up here.” Walt glances at the ocean.

Hank examines his fingernails like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

The gondola returns.

“Walt, you’re with me,” Hank announces as the car reaches the top.

Walt glances between us, confusion flickering across his features. “Uh, sure thing.”

They climb into the gondola. Hank still hasn’t looked at me directly.

As they descend, I’m left alone with Carter on the platform.

The ocean breeze picks up, carrying salt spray and the distant cries of seagulls. It should be peaceful. It should be calming.

Instead, it just gives me time to think about how my best friend, my brother, just spent the last hour actively avoidingme. The gondola returns for its last load. Carter and I climb in without ceremony and spend the entire trip in silence.

I stare down at the beach growing larger below us. The ocean roars below us, and the gondola tracks cut down the cliff face like a scar. At the bottom, a small platform sits just above the tide pools where the Pacific pounds the rocks into submission.

Whatever Mitzy found down there better be worth this bullshit.

NINETEEN

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