Page 19 of After the Burn

The house felt uncomfortably warm as I moved through it, the lingering heat from the stove mingling with the tension I was carrying.

For half a second, a memory shoved its way forward.

Heat.

Sweat.

Pain.

I’d woken up shaking so badly I could barely breathe, every inch of my body burning while the room spun around me.

Taryn had been there.

I remembered that part clearly.

Her hand was against my forehead.

Cool fingers pushed my hair back while exhaustion hollowed shadows beneath her eyes. “You’re okay,” she whispered when I tried to sit up too fast. “Stop fighting me for five minutes.”

I’d barely managed to focus past the fever, but I remembered seeing Beck standing near the doorway behind her, arms crossed, watching me with that same hard expression he always wore at school.

And Adrian—Adrian had looked worse.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Something in his face had shifted the second he realized I was awake.

Relief.

Sharp enough to almost look painful.

The memory blurred slightly after that, then snapped forward again.

The farmhouse kitchen.

A couple of weeks ago.

Rain hammered the windows as Lane quietly split his eggs between the twins. We'd all done it ourselves a time or two, so none of us said a word.

“You’re coming with me,” Adrian said flatly.

Beck leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “No.”

“We need to find out what’s out there,” Adrian insisted.

“And I’m still not leaving her.” Beck raised one eyebrow.

The room tightened instantly.

Taryn sat near the fireplace, cleaning one of her knives, not looking at either of them, but I could tell from the tension in her shoulders that she was listening to every word.

Adrian stepped closer to Beck. “We need supplies.”

“We need to stay alive,” Beck shot back immediately. “Those signs could be a trap.”

“I know.” Adrian held his gaze.