Bile and Olive Branches

Secrets have a shelf life. Eventually someone starts asking the right questions, and then it all comes pouring out — usually at the worst possible moment.

Jamie isn't letting it go. The fury that's been building since the lagoon finally finds its target, and Luke has nowhere left to hide. The dead man on the mattress wasn't a stranger who wandered through the Portal. He was the delivery driver. Joel. Wrong place, wrong time, found bleeding out in the back of his own truck after witnessing something he was never meant to see.

The confession lands like a grenade. Luke buried the body — yesterday, with help, without telling anyone. Jamie's rage turns volcanic. Accusations fly. And Kain, caught in the crossfire of a fight he doesn't fully understand, feels his body finally reach its limit.

The collapse comes without warning. Legs giving out, stomach heaving, the dust rising around him as he retches bile into the sand. Duke follows him out, loyal and confused, but Kain pushes him away. Can't accept comfort. Can't accept anything right now except the hard ground beneath his hands and the knowledge that everything has gone impossibly, irreversibly wrong.

But bodies recover even when minds don't. Henri is found safe, curled in his usual spot like the world hasn't ended. And outside the tent, a man with tired eyes and Luke's jaw offers his hand. Paul. Luke's brother. Another person trapped here, another story of loss and separation.

The conversation that follows is quiet, careful. Kain tells his story — the visit to check on Jamie, the sliding door, the shove. Paul apologises for things that aren't his fault. And when he mentions that Jamie could really use some help, Kain hears himself ask the question before he's decided to ask it.

What can I do?

It's not acceptance. Not yet. But it's a first step away from the dust.