Page 123 of Silent Shadows

That’s it.

My first episode.

Out of my hands. Into the world. Or at least into Marissa’s inbox, which is basically the world but with an editor and color-coded folders.

The door to the kitchen area slowly opens and Miles steps in.

Of course he does.

“Did you do it?”

I tuck my phone against my chest. “Maybe.”

His face lights up. “Daisy.”

“Don’t do that.” I make a mean face at him.

“Do what?”

“Look proud.”

“I am proud.”

My throat tightens. Absolutely not. Nope. We are not doing feelings in an RV while I’m wearing hiking socks.

“It could be terrible,” I say.

“It’s not.”

“You haven’t heard it.”

“I heard you recording some of it.”

“You eavesdropped? Creep!”

“I was checking the exterior battery bank.”

“And eavesdropping.”

“And being moved by your extremely professional podcast voice.”

I groan. “At least it sounded professional instead of vapid. I hate my podcast voice.”

“I like it.”

“You like alien documentaries made in 1987.”

“I have range.”

“You have VHS energy.”

His smile goes crooked. “Send it to me?”

I look at him.

He holds up both hands. “Only if you want. No pressure.”

The sincerity is worse than the flirting. A lot worse.