Chapter 145: You move quick, don’t you?

The dirt was still loose.

Carl stood there with the shovel in his hand, his chest rising and falling a little heavier than it should have. Sweat ran down the side of his face, cutting through the dust stuck to his skin. He wiped it with the back of his wrist, leaving a smear across his forehead.

The mound of earth in front of him was uneven. Fresh.

Julia was under it.

No one said anything.

Adira stood a few feet away, arms folded, her face set in something flat. Not cold. Not soft either. Just…still.

Behind her, the others gathered in a loose half-circle.

A few older men leaned on each other for support. A woman held a child close to her side, the kid peeking out from behind her leg, eyes fixed on Carl. Watching. Not understanding, but knowing enough to be afraid.

Carl swallowed.

He looked down at the shovel in his hands, then back at the grave.

Say something.

He glanced at Adira. She didn’t move. Didn’t offer anything.

Of course she wouldn’t.

Carl exhaled and shifted his weight.

“I— um…” His voice came out rough. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t really know Julia like that.”

No one reacted.

He tightened his grip on the shovel.

“But…from what I saw,” he went on, forcing the words out, “she looked out for you. All of you.”

A small breeze passed through, brushing against the trees.

“She took us in when she didn’t have to,” he said. “Fed us. Gave us somewhere to stay.”

He dropped the shovel. It hit the dirt with a dull thud.

Carl rubbed his hands together, trying to get the grime off, but it only spread.

“She didn’t have much,” he said. “But she still shared it.”

His eyes moved across the group.

No smiles. No nods. Just tired faces.

“I know this…this doesn’t make anything better,” he added. “And I know it probably feels like you got no one now.”

A pause.

Carl straightened slightly.

“But you do,” he said. “You’ve got us.”

Adira’s head turned toward him.

Carl didn’t look at her.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he continued. “We’ll keep things running. Keep you safe.”

He gestured vaguely toward the house behind them.

“At least until Aubrey and Isabella get back,” he said. “They’re out there looking for something better. Somewhere safer.”

Silence.

The kind that didn’t comfort. The kind that just sat there.

Carl’s confidence slipped a little under it.

“…So yeah,” he muttered. “We’ll…figure it out.”

No one clapped. No one spoke.

One by one, they started turning away.

The woman pulled her child along. The older men shuffled back toward the porch. Someone coughed. A door creaked open, then shut.

Within a minute, it was just Carl and Adira.

Carl let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping.

“…That could’ve gone better.”

“What was that?”

He looked up.

Adira was already walking toward him, her expression tight.

“What was what?” he asked.

She stopped in front of him, staring.

“All that,” she said, gesturing toward the grave, the house, everything. “What you just said.”

Carl frowned. “I meant it.”

“You told them we’re gonna protect them,” she said. “You told them we’re staying.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Because we are.”

Adira let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “Carl, we barely know these people.”

“So what?”

“So what?” she repeated, disbelief creeping into her voice. “That matters.”

“They needed to hear something,” he said. “You saw them.”

“I saw people who just lost the one person keeping them together,” she shot back. “And you thought it was a good idea to step in and promise them everything’s gonna be fine?”

“I didn’t say everything’s gonna be fine.”

“You basically did.”

Carl’s jaw tightened. “So what was I supposed to say? ’Good luck, you’re on your own’?”

Adira didn’t answer right away.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she muttered.

“Then what are you saying?” he pressed.

She looked at him, frustration clear now.

“I’m saying you don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I can keep it.”

“How?” she asked. “With what? We don’t have enough supplies, we don’t have backup, and we don’t even know if help is coming.”

“Aubrey and Isabella will come back.”

Adira’s expression shifted.

“How do you know that?”

Carl hesitated. “Because they will.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“They said they would.”

“So did a lot of people,” she said quietly.

Carl’s eyes darkened. “Don’t.”

“I’m serious,” Adira went on. “What if they don’t make it back? What if there is no safe place? Then what?”

Carl shook his head. “You’re being negative.”

“I’m being realistic.”

“Well maybe realism isn’t what they need right now,” he snapped.

Adira’s voice rose. “And false hope is better?”

“At least it gives them something to hold onto!”

“ITS NOT REAL!” she shouted.

The words cut through the air.

Carl went still.

Adira froze too, like she hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

Her breathing was uneven. She looked away, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose.

“…Carl,” she said, quieter now.

He stared at her. “Why are you like this?”

She didn’t answer.

“Why are you so afraid to even try?” he asked. “To help them. To lead?”

“I’m not afraid,” she said.

“You are.”

She looked back at him, something sharper in her eyes.

“Don’t do that,” she warned.

“Then what is it?” he pushed. “Because it sounds like you’re just ready to give up on them.”

“I’m not giving up on anyone.”

“Then act like it.”

Silence hit again.

Carl took a breath. “If this is about the Crucible—”

“That’s enough.”

Her voice cut him off, low and firm.

Carl stopped.

Adira’s jaw tightened. She looked away again, like she was trying to hold something back.

A few seconds passed before she spoke again.

“You’re the only person I have left,” she said.

Carl blinked.

Her voice wasn’t loud anymore. It was steady, but it carried weight.

“I can’t lose you,” she continued. “Not because you’re trying to play hero for people we just met.”

Carl’s expression softened slightly.

Adira finally looked at him.

“I’ve seen what happens,” she said. “Every time we try to save everyone, we lose everything instead.”

Carl didn’t respond.

The wind picked up again, brushing over the fresh dirt behind him.

Adira took a small step back.

“I’m not saying we abandon them,” she added. “I’m saying we don’t promise them something we can’t control.”

Carl looked past her, toward the house.

The people inside.

Then back at the grave.

“…I’m not walking away,” he said.

Adira didn’t argue this time.

She just watched him.

And for the first time since they got there, neither of them had an answer for what came next.

—

With each step, Lila’s heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t fear.

It was something warmer. Something that made her chest feel too tight and too light at the same time.

She pushed through the brush, branches snapping and scraping against her arms. One dragged across her cheek, leaving a thin line. She didn’t even blink.

Her fingers stayed wrapped around the lighter.

Adrian’s lighter.

She brought it closer to her face for a second, her thumb brushing over the metal. It was scratched. Worn. Familiar.

Her lips parted as she took a slow breath in.

Then another.

The scent was faint now, buried under dirt and smoke, but it was still there. Enough.

Enough to keep her moving.

Her eyes flickered, that red tint pulsing faintly before settling again.

“He’s close…” she whispered, more to herself than anything else.

Her steps quickened.

The forest began to thin, the trees breaking apart into scattered trunks and patches of open ground. The air felt different here. Less crowded. Less suffocating.

Lila slowed.

Her breathing softened, but her grip tightened.

Careful now.

She crouched slightly, easing her way toward the edge of the clearing. Bushes brushed against her shoulders as she leaned forward, peering through the gaps.

And then she saw him.

Adrian.

Sitting on a stump like nothing in the world was wrong.

Alive.

Her chest hitched so hard it almost hurt.

For a second, everything else disappeared. The noise. The blood. The days of searching.

It all faded into nothing.

There he was.

A small, shaky smile crept onto her face.

“I found you…” she breathed.

But then—

She noticed the way he was sitting.

Relaxed.

Talking.

Her eyes shifted.

There was someone else with him.

A woman.

Lila’s smile froze.

The woman sat across from him, close enough that their voices didn’t need to carry. Close enough that it looked…easy.

Familiar.

Lila’s head tilted slightly.

She stared.

Something about the woman scratched at her memory, like a name she almost remembered but couldn’t quite reach.

It didn’t matter.

Not really.

Her smile slowly dropped.

Her brows pulled together, her grip on the lighter tightening until her knuckles went pale.

Why was he smiling like that?

Why did he look…comfortable?

Her jaw clenched.

He was supposed to be hurting.

He was supposed to be looking for her.

Her.

Not sitting there with someone else like nothing happened.

Her chest tightened again, but this time it burned.

A quiet, ugly thought slipped in.

Did he think she was dead?

…Did he move on that fast?

“No…” she muttered under her breath, her voice shaking just slightly. “No, no, no…”

Her hand drifted to her gun.

Slow.

Deliberate.

The metal clicked softly as she cocked it.

Her eyes never left the woman.

That warmth from before twisted into something sharp. Possessive. Ugly.

Dangerous.

“I leave you alone for a little while…” she whispered, almost sounding hurt. “And this is what you do?”

She stepped out from the bushes.

No more hiding.

No more waiting.

Her eyes locked onto Adrian as she started walking forward, the gun steady in her hand.

“Adrian.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep