Caleb emerges only once the presence is fully gone.
Not the moment it recedes. Not when the forest begins to breathe again, sound returning in cautious fragments. He waits until the last thin thread of awareness finally loosens its grip, until the air no longer feels like it is holding its own breath. Only then does he step out from where he has been positioned, moving carefully, like someone entering a room after an argument has ended but the words are still hanging in the space, sharp and unresolved.
He stops a few paces away from me.
“Did you know him?” he asks.
It is the only question he asks. Not who. Not how. Not why. Just that.
I take a moment before answering. Not because I am searching for the truth. The truth is already settled inside me, heavy and precise. I pause because I
