The rain cloud thinned to a mist, then to nothing, leaving the camp damp and smelling faintly of soap and wet concrete, rather than heat and shame. Blankets were draped over broken railings to dry. Boots were set upside down against brick walls.
The shrine had survived under Ash's tarp. Now it glistened, making Pope look even more insufferably pleased. The morning light strengthened, turning broken storefront windows into pale mirrors. They reflected a group of men who had clearly lived through something ridiculous together and were trying not to dissect it further.
Shadow and Draco stood just outside the main fire circle, close enough to Snow Team that it was obvious, far enough from Emma's smaller cluster that it was deliberate.
Shadow's massive grizzly frame was calm but coiled, shoulders broad, arms folded, gaze steady and heavy.
