Yeah.
There it is.
I don’t say anything.
Don’t call it out.
Just file it away.
Because that’s not nothing.
Not even close.
“You should sit down,” I tell her.
She doesn’t move.
“I’m fine.”
That’s a lie.
We both know it.
She looks like hell.
Bruised.
Exhausted.
Barely holding it together physically—
But still standing.
Still fighting.
For him.
“Hannah,” I say, a little sharper now.
She finally looks at me fully.
And I see it.
That edge.
That stubborn refusal.
The same kind we see in the field.
The same kind Clay carries.
“I said I’m fine,” she repeats.
Yeah.
That tracks.
I exhale slowly.
