But old enough to lie about. And he didn't tell her. It started when Tess noticed him hesitating—every time he lifted his pack, flinching like something tugged under the strap. She asked, "You okay?" He smiled too fast. "Just sore." She didn't push. Not yet. But she started watching. And one night, when he thought she was asleep, he pulled off his shirt and stared at the wound in the mirror—hidden beneath layers, wrapped in gauze. Too clean to be a scrape. Too jagged to be harmless. In the morning, she confronted him. Milo blinked. "What's what?" "It's nothing," he muttered. She stepped closer. "You've been flinching for three days." So she grabbed his arm, pulled back the sleeve, and found the edge of the gauze. But he didn't help either. She unwrapped it slowly. The skin beneath was red. Inflamed. But the fear wasn't in the wound. It was in the silence he'd kept. "You didn't tell me," she whispered. "I didn't want you to worry." "That's not your call." "I had to make it mine." "Because if I'm infected—" he paused. Swallowed. "—you'll do what needs to be done." Hurt deeper than the scratch. "You think I'm just a trigger pull?" "No," Milo said. "I think you're stronger than I am." The silence between them cracked like glass under pressure. "I would've stayed," she said. "I didn't want you to." "Then you don't know me at all." He looked at her—really looked. Eyes rimmed red. Exhaustion painting his face. "I didn't want to be your next regret." Tess's voice broke. "You already are." They didn't speak the rest of the day. That night, she slept near the door. Milo stayed awake, hand resting on the pistol tucked beneath his blanket. But the fever didn't come. And in the morning, Tess was still there. Just two mugs of cold coffee between them. She pushed one toward him. Forgiveness in this world didn't come as an apology. Because sometimes the worst wounds aren't on the skin. They're in the trust you didn't know you broke— Until silence makes it bleed. And the only thing harder than telling the truth… Is living with the lie.