Morning hit ugly.
"Get up."
Ray cracked one eye. Milady was already dressed, standing over the bed like sleep was a personal insult.
"Get. Up."
He sat up slow. Body heavy. Head worse. The nothing-to-lose feeling from last night was still there, just tired now.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm up."
He didn't fight her. He didn't ask why. He just put his shoes on and followed.
The cabin, the woods, the road — it all blurred. Next thing he had any real memory of, they were standing at a bus stop. Ray kept his mouth shut and stayed behind her. Passive. Just another body in a seat.
The ride dumped them at a border station that felt forgotten on purpose. Quiet platform. Too many people sleeping on cardboard. Somebody coughing into a plastic bag. Ray pulled his mask up and didn't look too long.
Milady was already walking.
"Come."
They left the station and headed into a suburb that took an hour on foot. Sun on the pavement. Empty lawns. Ray's legs started talking before his pride did.
