Mallory sat alone on the roof, staring at the horizon. The faint glow of distant fires lit up the skyline, casting ominous shadows over the city.
Greg climbed up the ladder and approached quietly, his heavy boots barely making a sound.
"Mind some company?" he asked.
Mallory gestured for him to sit. "Can't sleep?"
Greg chuckled, his voice low. "Sleep? What's that again?"
"Right," Mallory muttered.
The two sat in companionable silence for a moment, the cool breeze brushing against their faces.
"I've been thinking," Greg said finally.
"Uh-oh," Mallory teased.
He smirked. "Very funny. I'm serious, though. We've come a long way from scrambling for scraps in the ruins. It feels… strange."
"Strange how?"
"Like we're not just surviving anymore," Greg said. "We're fighting back, building something real. It's good, but it's terrifying. What if we mess this up? What if we lose it all?"
