Page 27 of Silent Shadows

Taylor snorts.

Miles keeps going.

“Fourth, no posting real-time location updates.”

“Of course…”

“Fifth—”

“There’s a fifth? How many rules are there?” I interrupt.

“There are twelve,” he says.

I stare at him.

He stares back earnestly.

“You made twelve rules.”

“They’re guidelines.”

“And they’re laminated.”

“We discussed this already.”

Jax is openly recording this interaction on his phone now.

“Dude,” he says through laughter, “it’s like you made her a cryptid syllabus.”

“It’s all those years being a TA showing,” Miles says.

“I’m sure your professors love what you’ve done with all your potential,” Jax quips. Miles laughs, elbowing him as they share a moment.

I cross my arms, watching Miles flip pages with deep concentration. I feel lost. Because I came here expecting to deal with arrogance. Territorial behavior. A man obsessed with proving himself right.

Instead, I got… this. A weirdly charming, hyper-prepared forest nerd who, on one hand, is trying so hard to make me feel comfortable, and on the other is so technical and focused he borders on unhinged.

And the most surprising part? He doesn’t seem at all intimidated by me.

Most people either want something from me or want to impress me. Usually both.

Miles just… exists.

Fully. Comfortably. Authentically.

Like my presence changes absolutely nothing about how he operates.

It’s unsettling.

“Any questions before we jump in?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I blink. “About your wilderness constitution?”

“It’s not a constitution.”

“It’s tabbed.”

“You keep bringing up organization like it’s a flaw.”