(BLUE'S POV)
(FLASHBACK)
Sofia came back two days later, no heads-up, no nothing.
One second Jeremy and I were hunched over the rickety wooden table inside the hideout, arguing about the best hunting routes through the northern ridge, and the next the heavy metal door let out this low, rusty groan that echoed off the stone walls like a warning. A rush of cold night air swept in, carrying the sharp smell of pine and damp earth. Then she just stepped inside, calm as ever, like she'd only popped out for a quick stroll through the woods.
She looked exactly the same as when she'd left. Not a hair out of place. Her clothes were still neat, no wrinkles, no tears. Her hands were clean—no blood, no dirt, nothing. If I hadn't known better, I would've sworn she'd just gone out to pick berries or something harmless like that.
Jeremy stood up right away, the chair scraping back against the dirt floor. "You're back," he said, voice low but steady.
