I walked back to the base slowly.
The clearing came into view.
The moment I stepped past the first trees, the air shifted—thick with tension.
Jack's voice cut through the quiet first—low, furious, barely controlled.
"Mira… tell me what is going on with you and that Dexter…?"
Mira stood near the fire—arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to shield the still-prominent outline of her nipples beneath her shirt. Her face was already flushed from earlier embarrassment; now it paled, then flushed again as Jack's words hit her.
"What's happened?" she asked—voice sharp, defensive, but with a tremor underneath. She glanced around—suddenly aware that everyone was listening.
Nicole clung to her side, wide-eyed. Bill stood a few feet away—cheek still faintly red from her earlier slap—looking between his parents with growing confusion.
Jack stepped closer—face dark, jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek.
