“You are lying,” I said.

“And you are helping him.”

I disconnected the call before she could answer.

I pulled the SUV off the main road onto a narrow gravel turnout.

The tires crunched loudly on the loose stones.

I killed the headlights, plunging the forest into deep shadow.

The cold air hit my face as I opened the driver’s side door.

It was late autumn, and the wind off the peaks carried the scent of pine and oncoming snow.

I grabbed my flashlight from the glove compartment but did not turn it on.

My eyes adjusted quickly to the moonlight filtering through the canopy.

I walked down the dirt path leading toward the cabin, my boots sinking into the damp pine needles.

Each step was silent.

My training on the base had made stealth second nature.

I kept my phone screen dimmed, watching the video stream as I walked.

Dorian had finished pouring the gasoline.

He stood back, his face twisted in a grimace of anticipation.

He struck the lighter again.

A small orange flame bloomed in his hand.