Page 59 of Silent Bones

He turned and opened the front door, letting in the smell of wet grass and gasoline. “You got what you came for. Now get the hell out of my house.”

Neither Noah nor McKenzie moved for a second.

Then Noah stood, gathered the photo from the table, and slipped it into his jacket.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Leaves skittered across the driveway like bones on tile. As they reached the vehicle, McKenzie muttered, “I think he’s hiding something.”

Noah stared through the windshield. “Yeah. Just not sure if it’s a secret, or a wound.”

Behind them, the door slammed.

A neighbor’s screen door squeaked open. An old woman on the porch called out, “You boys here to blame that man for his own son’s death? Leave him alone.”

Neither answered.

They got in. The car pulled away. And the Linwood house sat quiet once more.

14

Everything about the moment was disturbing. The apartment was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It was the kind of quiet that buzzed under the skin. The weight of everything unsaid pressed on the air like humidity before a storm.

Jake was in the bedroom, zipping up a duffel bag with the kind of practiced calm that made Callie want to scream. The sound of the zipper was too loud in the silence, a straight-line scratch through her chest. She sat on the armrest of the couch, arms folded across her stomach, jaw locked tight.

She could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he reached for it, looped it through his jeans. A window was open, letting in the faint scent of rain off the street. One of those nights where the world felt like it was holding its breath.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at the floor.

Jake stepped into the living room. His uniform was civilian, plain jeans, gray shirt, scuffed boots, but he wore it like armor. The duffel hung from his shoulder, heavy in all the ways it didn’t look.

He didn’t speak.

Neither did she.

Not at first.

But then she did. “So that’s it?”

He stopped near the doorway, exhaled slowly, and looked over at her with a familiar mixture of weariness and resignation.

“It’s not punishment, Cal.”

She huffed, more air than sound. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Jake set the bag down with care, as if letting it drop would somehow make everything worse. “I’m not doing this to hurt you.”

“You’re leaving.”

“I need something different.”

“You meansomeonedifferent?”

His mouth pressed into a line. “You don’t believe that.”

“I don’t know what I believe.” She stood, arms still crossed tight like she was holding herself in place. “I just know you didn’t even try to talk to me. You applied for the transfer without even saying a word.”

He nodded once. “Because I knew what you’d say.”

“That’s not how this works. You don’t just,decidefor both of us.”