AUTHOR POINT OF VIEW

The journey to Black Ridge was tense. No one spoke. The sound of the engine and the cold wind outside were the only things that filled the silence. The deeper they went, the darker the road became, like the forest itself was swallowing the light.

Zuko sat in the front seat, his jaw tight, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other clenched into a fist on his lap. Every passing second felt like a reminder that Kayla was out there, hurt, scared, maybe worse, and he was ...