Caleb’s P.O.V

That evening, the air in the woods behind the packhouse carried the familiar scent of pine, damp earth, and the faint chill that always came with twilight. I stood beside Caroline, our breaths fogging slightly in the coolness as we waited. The trees swayed gently, casting long, jagged shadows that danced across the ground in a rhythmic hush. Neither of us said much. There wasn’t a need to—we both knew why we were here, what had to be said.

My arms were ...