still, it didn’t sit right. not in his gut. not for the mouths they had now.
he wanted more.
he rolled a shoulder, stretching the stiffness from one side as his eyes scanned the horizon. light played off the dirt, off the tree trunks, but there was no sign of her yet. twitch.
cole exhaled through his nose, slow and steady. she had a habit of disappearing, that girl— silent as smoke. but she wasn’t far. never was. even if she thought she could vanish, he could always find her. always knew where to look.
he stepped forward, nose low, picking up the scent she left behind like threadbare ribbon. faint, but recent. he followed it, not with urgency, but with intent— tracking her like a ghost.
he had a mind to ask if she’d come with him, later. for something bigger. something worth the effort.