Chapter 3: Teeth and smoke
The motel smelled like mildew and cheap soap.
Cain sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his bruised knuckles, flexing his fingers like he could stretch the anger out of his bones.
Riven was curled up on the other bed, pretending to read a book he'd already flipped through three times. His hoodie was still on, sleeves pulled over his hands like armor.
Elias leaned against the window, staring out into the night.
The neon sign outside buzzed and flickered — VACANCY — like it was barely hanging on, same as them.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
It wasn't that they didn't want to. It was that they were all waiting for something to break.
Cain finally let out a rough breath and muttered, "We need to move. Tonight."
Elias turned, frowning. "You serious?"
Cain nodded. His jaw clenched tight enough to hurt. "After that missing girl poster? After the way they looked at us today? We're not staying to find out what happens next."
Elias didn't argue. He just dragged a hand through his hair and cursed under his breath.