A New Ear, A New Voice

The fire had burned down to embers, casting a warm, pulsing glow across the small clearing where they sat. Christine had not moved from her spot on the fallen log across from Taye, her hands resting loosely in her lap, her eyes steady and patient. The others had drifted away—Trinity and Ryan somewhere in the dark beyond the firelight, Justin and Kheta murmuring in low voices near the tents, Mike standing at the edge of the woods, his back to them all.

Taye had not spoken for a long while. The words had come in fits and starts, like water seeping through a cracked dam, and now they had stopped altogether. He stared into the embers, watching the last faint tongues of flame lick at the charred wood, and felt the weight of his own confession hanging in the air between them.

Christine did not rush him. She did not offer platitudes or empty reassurances. She simply sat, her presence a quiet anchor in the storm of his thoughts.