Static and Starlight

He was standing exactly where the signal had pointed, which should have been impossible, and exactly where a person had no business standing at that hour, which should have made her run.

"You're the one who's been talking back," he said, like it was an accusation and an apology at once. "Nobody's answered in three years."

Wren held up her notebook, pages full of dashes and dots like it was evidence for a trial neither of them had asked to be part of. "I thought it was equipment failure."

"So did I," he said, and for the first time since the treeline had gone quiet, it felt like the quiet had a reason worth knowing.