Bron laughs.
“Well,” he says breathlessly. “That worked.”
I look down at the climbing structure stretching beneath us.
Then I look at him.
“You followed every instruction.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t improvise once.”
“I noticed.”
I study him carefully.
“You’re changing.”
He tilts his head.
“Is that a compliment?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
We step off the platform while the remaining teams struggle with the final puzzle lock below.
The announcers are already shouting our names over the stadium speakers.
Third place becomes second on the ranking board.
The number glows brighter now.
As we walk back toward the exit tunnel, I catch myself watching Bron again.
The way he moves through the arena.
The way he actually listens when I explain strategy.
The way he’s been deliberately holding back his usual reckless instincts during every challenge.
For a long time I convinced myself that Bron Verak would never change.
That chaos was simply part of his DNA.
That trusting him was the kind of mistake intelligent people learned not to repeat.
But as the arena noise fades behind us and the updated rankings flash across the stadium screens, a quiet question begins forming in the back of my mind.
Maybe I was wrong.
And the possibility that Bron might actually be capable of growing into someone dependable is far more unsettling than the idea that he never would.
CHAPTER 20
BRON
Pain has a smell.
