The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 215

He stared at her face, his lips parting as if to speak, but ultimately, he shoved the tablet into his pocket and turned away.

He took a few steps, paused, and then kept walking.

Sloane watched his retreating back, suddenly struck by the feeling that the distance between them was deeper than the frozen lake itself.

*

Lunch consisted of canned soup and protein bars.

Diego heated the soup and portioned it into bowls, his movements painfully slow and quiet, as if terrified of waking something dangerous.

No one spoke.

The professor held his bowl, taking slow sips while his eyes remained glued to the sonar map spread across the table.

Josh sat in the corner, breaking his protein bar into tiny pieces and shoving them into his mouth, chewing methodically as if he were grinding stones.

Wyatt leaned back against the wall, his long legs stretched out, eyes closed—it was impossible to tell if he was asleep or just thinking. Cassandra stood by the window, swirling a half-finished cup of coffee, staring out into the eternal darkness.

Sloane wasn't there. Exhaustion had completely overtaken her. The moment she returned to the cabin, she had fallen dead asleep, wrapped so tightly in blankets that only a sliver of her pale forehead was visible.

Garrison checked on her once, stood by the bed for a long moment, and then walked out. He skipped lunch, leaning against the boarding stairs outside the cabin, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other death-gripping his tablet.

The live data feed on the screen had stopped. The last recorded metric was her heart rate: ninety-two. Down from one hundred and thirty. She had surfaced. She was alive. Yet the look she had given him was as cold and detached as if she were looking at an enemy.

A wave of inexplicable, suffocating frustration twisted violently in Garrison's chest.

Inside the mess hall, the professor set his bowl down and stood up. "Diego, come out to the ice with me. Let's run the sonar again and see if we can find a shallower route."

Diego hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of protein bar, wiped his mouth, and followed him out.

Josh shoved the last piece of his bar into his mouth, stood up, and walked over to Wyatt. "Wyatt," he said. "Can you do me a favor?"

Wyatt cracked one eye open and looked at him. "Oh? What do you want now?"

Josh didn't respond, just stared at him. Wyatt sighed and pushed himself off the wall. "Fine, what is it?"

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