The air was thicker that morning, not with mist but with something else, something unseen, like a held breath or a half-whispered warning. Jude woke alone, the space beside him empty but still warm, the faint scent of Sophie's skin lingering on the pillow. He blinked slowly, sat up, and let his feet dangle over the edge of the platform. The sky outside the canopy was overcast, a dull gray stretched across the horizon like someone had drawn a shroud over the sun. It wasn't the first cloudy day, but something about this one felt… off.
He descended quietly, barefoot, and wandered toward the fire pit. Susan was already there, crouched and focused, coaxing flames from the coals with careful hands. Her hair was braided today, tight and neat, and the muscles in her arms flexed with every movement.
"You're up early," Jude murmured, settling beside her.
She didn't look up immediately. "Couldn't sleep."