Page 81 of Seeds of Christmas
“Liar.”
“Complete liar,” I admit. “This is terrible. Why did we choose this again?”
“Because we’re masochists who hate comfort?”
“That tracks.”
We stop to rest, and I lean against a tree, trying not to show how much my ankle is killing me. Carter hands me water, and I drink gratefully.
“You know,” he says, studying my face, “we really can turn back. The data’s not worth you being in pain.”
“I’m not in that much pain,” I snap.
“Rhi.”
“Okay, I’m in some pain. But we’re almost there.” I can see the steam rising in the distance, marking the hot spring. “Twenty more minutes. I can do twenty more minutes.” My ankle is screaming.
He looks like he wants to argue, but instead, he just nods. “Okay. But I’m carrying your pack.”
“You’re already carrying your own?—”
“I’m carrying your pack,” he repeats, already reaching for it. “Non-negotiable.”
I let him take it because arguing would waste energy I don’t have.
When we finally reach Site Five, I’mexhausted and my ankle is screaming. But the thermal readings are perfect—exactly what we need for the gradient analysis.
“These numbers are great,” Carter says, checking the equipment. “Professor Bam is going to be thrilled.”
“Yeah.” I’m writing down readings, not looking at him. “Good data.”
“You okay?”
“Fine. Just tired from the hike.”
“Rhi—”
“Can we just finish the readings? I want to get back before dark.”
He goes quiet. I can feel him watching me, trying to figure out what’s wrong
I don’t give him the chance.
I focus on the equipment, on the numbers, on anything that isn’t the hurt confusion in his eyes.
16
CARTER
Something’s wrong.
I noticed it this morning, but I thought maybe she was just in pain from her ankle. Or tired from yesterday. Or stressed about the data.
But it’s not that.
She won’t look at me.
Won’t talk beyond necessary words.
