The snow crunched beneath Zubair's boots as they crested the last incline leading back to the cabin. His breath misted in the cold air, but his skin still radiated heat. Not like before—when he'd been burning from the inside out—but like embers now, glowing steady beneath the surface.
He didn't say a word as they walked, and neither did Sera.
In his left hand, the trout dangled by the gills, stiff and already half-frozen. He could've dropped it. Could've handed it back to her. But instead, he kept walking in silence, carrying it like a tether to something more grounded than the conversation they'd just had.
As they approached the edge of the trees, the lights from the cabin spilled soft and golden through the windows.
Sera stopped just short of the clearing.
Zubair followed her gaze as she studied the house, every window lit, faint movement behind one of them—Noah probably pacing with snacks, or Alexei rooting through the fridge like a bear.
