Chapter 152

The night had swallowed the mountains whole, leaving only biting cold in its wake.

Tristan ended the call and turned back toward their campsite. Camille and Iris sat close together, sharing snacks and whispers. He ducked into the tent and emerged with two jackets - one oversized, one child-sized.

He handed the larger one to Camille.

"I'm fine," she protested. "Not cold."

"Just take it."

Tristan shook out the coat and draped it over her shoulders before carefully bundling Iris into the smaller one.

Camille hadn't realized how chilled she'd been until the wind stopped slicing through her. She pulled the edges tighter without further argument.

After dinner, they joined the bonfire gathering.

Someone whistled. "Damn, you three look like a perfect little family!"

Camille stiffened. "We're not."

The group chuckled knowingly, exchanging glances that said this was just a temporary technicality.

Iris soon scampered off to play with other children.

Clusters of families and friends filled the clearing - laughing, building snowmen, hurling snowballs. The energy was infectious.

Without Iris between them, silence settled over Camille and Tristan.

What was there to say?

Mentioning Damien and Chloe would only reopen wounds.

Work talk risked stirring up Vertex Dynamics memories.

Tristan broke first. "Settling in at NovaSight Labs?"

Camille twisted dry grass between her fingers, shaping it into delicate wings. "Mm."

"Gabriel seems to look out for you."

"Yes."

"Did you study AI in college?"

Another noncommittal hum.

"How'd you meet Gabriel?"

Silence.

Tristan recognized the wall when he hit it. He'd learned not to push.

He excused himself to take several calls at the tree line.

When he returned, darkness had fully claimed the mountainside.

Camille had crafted an entire flock of grass butterflies. Iris treasured them, carefully tucking each one into her pocket.

The sight froze Camille's smile.

Chloe used to collect her little creations with that same reverence.

Gone now.

That night, Iris begged to sleep beside Camille.

Tristan's questioning glance held no expectation, only quiet waiting.

Camille nodded.

Iris burrowed close, radiating contentment.

They shared a tent, not a sleeping bag. No risk of midnight cuddles.

But mountain winds care little for boundaries. By dawn, Iris was feverish.

Camille hadn't slept well either, shadows bruising her eyes.

Tristan prepared to drive Iris to the hospital. Camille intended to leave separately until Iris's weak fingers clutched hers, pleading through glassy eyes.

They piled into Tristan's car.

Exhaustion claimed them both within minutes.

Tristan's gaze traced Camille's delicate features. His fingers twitched toward a stray curl brushing her cheek.

Her lashes fluttered.

He withdrew.