Chapter 8: Caden Rhys Notices the Numbers

Caden's camp did not look like a camp.

It looked like a set.

He had spent the better part of Day Two arranging it—the fire positioned for maximum flame visibility from the southwest camera tower, the bedroll placed so the morning light would catch his face at the angle his director of photography had identified three years ago as his best, the supply pack leaning against a root ball with the StreamBlood co-branded logo facing out. The positioning had taken eleven minutes. He'd done it without thinking about it, the way other people made coffee.