It had been a week since she last saw Winter. A week since their fight.
Since then, Zara hadn't heard from him, hadn't seen him—not even in passing.
She had spent the past week trying—and failing—to find Winter.
She tried asking Mike and Sam, but both had shrugged.
"I haven't seen him," Mike had said, running a hand through his hair. "He hasn't been over here, and we figured he was on some mission. You know how he is."
Sam had nodded. "Or he's holed up somewhere brooding like an idiot."
That had been yesterday.
Which left Richard.
She found him outside the barracks, rolling his shoulders after what looked like a sparring session.
She had gone to him, casually slipping Winter's name into the conversation, but Richard had just sighed and rubbed the back of his head.
"Winter?" he repeated when she asked. His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his gaze.
Zara's stomach clenched. He was hiding something.
"Winter's busy with some things in the base."
