The Chest

Calvin hid the small chest beneath his coat, feeling its weight press against him as he rejoined the convoy. The group was busy gathering and sorting the supplies they had scavenged from Bacca: medicines, bandages, and a few cans of food. The air was thick with the tension of their recent narrow escape, and everyone worked quickly to prepare for their next move.

Calvin and Lizzie exchanged worried glances. They had nearly caused the convoy to leave without them, and now they stood empty-handed amidst the others' successful scavenging efforts. Lindsay approached them, her expression stern but tempered with a hint of understanding.

“You did well yesterday, Calvin,” Lindsay said, her voice firm. “That’s the only reason you’re getting a pass this time. But listen carefully—there won’t be a next time. If either of you are late again, you’ll be left behind.”

Calvin nodded, swallowing hard. “We understand, Lindsay. We’re sorry for the delay. It won’t happen again.”

Lizzie looked down, clutch
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