Not for the first time, I marvel that such major shit hinges on such small things.

I park in the lot by the commissary, and it’s a short walk. I send Fallon for my keys. The packmates choosing adventure follow as we make our way slowly down the path toward the commons. The sun is setting, and the foothills are a solid black outline blending into the deep purple of the evening sky. It’s a beautiful night.

My tension isn’t set aside; it’s gone. My enemies’ machinations have no consequence when Nuria leaves her hand in mine after I grab it to help her navigate a root in the path....