The cuffs around my wrists clinked softly every time I took another step.
Not loud.
Just enough to remind me they were there.
Callahan walked half a pace behind me with the muzzle of his rifle resting lazily against the middle of my back. It wasn't pressed hard enough to hurt. It didn't need to be. The message had already been delivered the moment they put the cuffs on me.
Keep walking.
I did.
The door behind Miriam shut with a heavy metallic thud, swallowing the conversation we'd just had as though it had never happened.
She moved ahead of us without saying a word.
Not hurried.
Not slow.
Measured.
Every step looked deliberate.
I watched the back of her white coat sway gently with each stride as we emerged into the compound again.
The sky had settled beneath a thick blanket of gray clouds. The kind that threatened snow but hadn't committed to it yet. A bitter wind rolled across the open yard, carrying with it the smell of damp soil, fresh lumber, wood smoke…
…and blood.
