Cane's POV
The moon was high, painting our little beach in silver. I lay still, listening to the rhythm I knew better than my own heartbeat. Stephanie's breathing. It was deep and even, the sound of someone far away in sleep.
I waited a full ten minutes after the last sigh. Just to be sure.
Slowly, I turned my head. She was on her side, facing me, one hand tucked under her cheek. In the moonlight, she looked peaceful. Younger. The constant worry line between her brows was smooth. I felt a pang of guilt for what I was about to do.
I lifted my hand and waved it gently, about an inch from her nose. Nothing. Not a flicker.
"Steph?" I whispered, barely a breath.
No response.
Carefully, like disarming a bomb, I slipped out from under our palm-frond blanket. I moved silently, a skill my old life had taught me well. I didn't put on my makeshift sandals. Bare feet were quieter on the sand.
I gave her one last look, then melted into the black wall of the jungle.
