Because he’s not wrong.
Because that’s exactly what this is.
I look away first.
Grab the rest of my gear.
Secure it.
Check it.
Focus.
Because I’m not standing here talking about this anymore.
“Wheels up in ten,” Lucas calls from across the bay.
Good.
Something to do.
Something to move toward.
I sling my pack over my shoulder.
Ignore the pull in my ribs.
Ignore everything else.
Russ doesn’t stop me this time.
Doesn’t say anything else.
But I feel it.
That look.
That knowing.
Like he already sees where this is going.
Like he knows something I don’t.
Or won’t admit.
Doesn’t matter.
Not right now.
Right now—
There’s only one thing that matters.
I move toward the exit.
Fast.
Focused.
