The morning after the cave felt muted. Even the birdsong seemed cautious.
Rai sat alone on a large flat stone near the clearing, notebook resting on his knee. His pencil moved slowly, lines overlapping, fading, erasing, redrawing. He wasn't sure why he was trying to sketch the man from his dream—only that he needed to see him again.
The face forming beneath his pencil was... familiar.
Older.
More tired.
But still his.
A version of himself who had waited too long for something he couldn't explain.
He didn't notice Emma walk up behind him until she quietly placed a thermos near his foot.
"You didn't sleep," she said gently.
He gave the faintest nod.
Emma looked at the sketch. "That's not you."
"No," Rai murmured. "But it could be."
She didn't press. She never did.
Just sat nearby, quiet in the cool morning air.
When they reached the cars, the group still carried a strange hush. No one wanted to talk about the chamber, or the text, or the weight that still seemed to cling to their bones.
Cyrus, maybe trying to lift the air, tossed his bag into the back seat of the Mustang and turned to Rai.
"Let me drive today," he said.
Rai arched an eyebrow. "You?"
"C'mon, man. You were half-conscious in the cave. Take a breath. Plus—this beauty's been purring at me since we got here."
Owen laughed. "If he's driving the Mustang, I'm not missing it."
"Boys' ride," Cyrus declared, already opening the driver's door.
Rai didn't fight it. He handed the keys over with a rare, tired smile. "Try not to kill us."
"I'll drive it like I stole it," Cyrus grinned.
The Mustang came to life with a deep, guttural roar. Cyrus grinned wider, giving it a soft rev.
Owen leaned out the window. "Damn. That sound? That's not just a car. That's a threat."
Cyrus revved it again, and the engine growled—low, thunderous, like something alive.
"Listen to that," he said. "This thing doesn't whisper. It warns."
Even Rai cracked a small grin. "She doesn't like being quiet."
They pulled out first, windows down, sun streaking through the trees, the Mustang rumbling like a beast let off leash.
In the second car, Ronald drove with careful ease. His hands rested lightly on the wheel, fingers drumming a slow rhythm.
Emma watched him from the passenger seat.
Iris and Marin were quiet in the back—resting, eyes closed—but Emma stayed alert.
Something about Ronald's calm felt... wrong.
His phone buzzed once.
Then again.
And again.
Six times in ten minutes.
He didn't pick it up. Didn't even glance down.
Just kept tapping the gearshift, staring straight ahead.
Emma turned slightly. "You didn't come back to the camp right away last night."
Ronald didn't flinch. He smiled, turning smoothly onto the main road.
"No, I walked for a bit," he said. "Cleared my head. That place... the cave—it got under my skin."
His voice was easy. Not too quick. Not defensive.
"Didn't mean to worry anyone," he added. "Did I?"
Emma studied him for a moment longer. "You didn't seem like someone who was lost in thought. You seemed like someone who found something."
Ronald's phone buzzed again.
He gave a soft chuckle. "You're sharp, Emma."
She didn't smile.
He tapped the screen once, silencing the buzzing.
Then said calmly, "If I ever do find something worth sharing, you'll be the first to know."
The words were light.
But Emma's fingers curled tighter around her seatbelt.
She didn't respond.
Not yet.
But a crack had opened.
And she wasn't going to let it close.