Jerica's heart stuttered, confusion clouding her fear as her eyes locked on the figure holding the gun. The person stood rigid, shoulders heaving like they'd just sprinted through the forest. Smoke still curled faintly from the barrel of the rifle, dissipating into the evening air. For a moment, the world around her felt surreal, silent but for the pounding of her heartbeat.
Then his face came into focus.
Jared.
Her breath caught, disbelief washing over her in waves. Jared's expression was a storm of emotions: raw determination, lingering panic, and something deeper—an unspoken fear that mirrored her own. His chest rose and fell heavily, his every breath a testament to the intensity of what had just happened. His hands, steady moments ago, now trembled slightly as he lowered the rifle.
"You…" Her voice cracked, barely audible, as though the words struggled to find their way out. "You had a gun?"
