The icy water soothes the hellish heat, then warms just enough to relax my exhausted muscles. The current washes away the animal stench, and the soap scrubs off impurities. I feel human again — a completely drained human who just wants to sleep. But I doubt Ella will let me escape without the obligatory Instagram photo.

  Today’s memory won’t just be of a beautiful place for family nostalgia. No, it’ll also be about the sheer exhaustion and our near-death experience. We barely made it. One small detail different, and I’d be splattered on the ground like a pancake.

  Am I insane or what? I shouldn’t have grabbed that rope. What the hell was I thinking, risking my life for a motorcycle? Better to let it fall than to die for it. You can buy another bike. My life? No refunds.

  And the worst part? I got back on. One dumb decision is understandable. Repeating it? That’s just madness.

  I’ve lost my damn mind. Me and Wally both. Have we spent so much time with Sam that we’ve caught his insanity?

  Wally practically glued himself to the ground, laughing nervously once he realized how close we’d come to death. Even Sam, sitting there, was cracking up while staring at the cliff in disbelief.

  Three idiots. We should’ve gotten off the bike the second we realized how dangerous it was.

  There shouldn’t have been three people on a motorcycle to begin with. None of us wearing helmets, we couldn’t turn the handlebars properly, the suspension was maxed out, and the bike was overloaded as hell.

  Wait… didn’t Sam say the bike was even heavier with Ella and Zoe because of all the extra gear? How the hell did they make it down without dying?

  That lunatic must’ve been way more careful because it was them. Chivalrous Sam would never dream of putting the two princesses in danger. Bet he even got off the bike to guide it down.

  But with us two idiots? Oh, then it’s fine to be a suicidal maniac. That bastard really used us as test subjects, himself included — but he’s already crazy, so it doesn’t count.

  Stepping out of the shower, my blood boils despite the exhaustion weighing me down. Clothes are thrown on without much thought, and I head straight for the bastard. Furioso is nearby, playing with Zoe near the porch. Sam must be around here somewhere, but I can’t spot him.

  “Sam!”

  His head pops up from behind his truck. “What do you want?” he grumbles.

  I stomp toward him. “How did you get down that hill with Ella and Zoe?”

  He’s working on his bike. His knuckles turn white as he grips the tool in his hand, responding to my irritation without a word.

  “Obviously not the same way I did with you two,” he sighs, going back to tinkering with the bike. “They’re ladies.”

  “Are you insane? Just because we’re guys doesn’t mean—” I glance around to make sure Ella’s not nearby. “You should be more careful with us too.”

  “First, you want me to treat you like a married man. Now, like a delicate flower? What else do you want me to pretend you are?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Just… treat me like a person. Damn it, that’s not asking for much.” I step closer and lower my voice. “A person whose life you don’t gamble with for no reason.”

  “Ugh… you’re just like those cowards from the factory.” He rolls his eyes. “And here I thought you were at least tolerable since you actually enjoyed the test and helped me save the bike.”

  “We almost — !” I remind myself to keep my voice down. “...smashed into the ground.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” He shrugs dismissively. “No fun with you. At least I thought you liked a little action, considering you made a movie with some.”

  “I do. And I’m not a coward — it’s just common sense to avoid life-or-death situations when you can. Basic stuff.”

  “Knew it. Just like those whiny complainers.” He finally looks up at me, one eyebrow raised in mock disdain.

  “Who exactly are you comparing me to?” I ask through clenched teeth, even though I know I won’t like the answer. But if I don't ask, I'll just keep thinking about it.

  “The people I shared the factory floor with. A bunch of scaredy-cats, always whining that I didn’t report my experiments. Every little explosion and they’d throw a fit.” Sam shrugs.

  Poor workers.

  “I don’t even know why Johan says you work alone, considering everyone has such great reasons to work with you.” I roll my eyes. “That really does sound like a healthy work environment.”

  “Ugh… a total drag.” Sam rolls his eyes at me. “It’s healthy if you actually want to learn from tests. They wanted me to waste more time writing reports than actually working.”

  I don’t feel bad about being compared to people who just wanted to do their jobs without random explosions.

  “They weren’t cowards — you’re just insane.” I turn on my heel, ready to leave, but then I remember why I came here in the first place.

  “Of course, you’d take their side,” Sam mutters.

  Oh, shit. The insane crossings—driving through narrow paths, cliffs, and ridiculous inclines—with him casually saying, “Just do what I did,” full of confidence and absolute certainty that I’d pull it off too. And, well… I actually did.

  But was it way more dangerous than he made it seem? It felt insanely risky. But was it, like… actual, life-threatening risk?

  How many times have I almost died on this trip?

  If this is how it’s gonna be, just making it through the day without dying feels like a battle.

  Just today, I can count at least two times I nearly died — once in the river and once on that damn cliff. I hope this cave doesn’t have stalagmites or titrates — whatever they’re called. Just… let it not be dangerous.

  I’m exhausted. I just want a bed.

  “What?” Sam grumbles, rubbing some clear liquid onto the motorcycle, making a scratch disappear. “Why are you staring at me? Go away.”

  “Were those roads we took dangerous?”

  “No…” He pauses mid-swipe. “Maybe just a little… in the parts where I asked Ella and Zoe to step out of the vehicles before we passed.”

  I knew it.

  You know what? I’m too tired to even think about this right now. I just need to lie down for a bit. But Ella and Zoe are definitely going to hassle me. Maybe he can at least convince them to wait until later. That’s the least he could do for me.

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Yeah, a little.” He’s distracted, spraying something onto the bike.

  “Then maybe you should tell Ella it’s better if we stay here.”

  “The drive to the cave is short and easy. We won’t even get tired.” He shrugs, putting the can away.

  “There’s a trail, isn’t there?”

  “A small staircase,” he replies with a suspicious level of indifference, clearly downplaying the whole thing.

  Oh, hell no. Not falling for that again. I’d bet anything that this “small staircase” is a load of crap — just like all the other trails we’ve done. I think the shortest one was about 8 kilometers.

  “Why do we have to do this today? We could just go tomorrow,” I try to reason. “That way, we can enjoy the trip more.”

  “No, this one’s an easy, quick stop. Might as well check it off the list now.” He sighs, rubbing his temples like he has a headache. “I already cut one part of the route so we could have more time here — enjoy the beach, the river, and relax after lunch. It’s been a chill day.”

  “Chill?!”

  “Don’t let one little incident turn your peaceful day into an emotional crisis about life and death. That’s… pathetic. Just live like it’s your last day, and you won’t have to deal with this psychological nonsense.”

  “Pathetic?! I’m not pathetic because of that.”

  “So then… why are you pathetic?” He tilts his head, smirking.

  “I meant I’m not pathetic.”

  “Right. Sure.” He oozes condescension, flashing that smug look again.

  “I’m not a coward or pathetic just because I value my life. But that’s not even the point right now. Don’t use us as test dummies to throw into life-threatening situations again.

  And besides, since when was today relaxing? Even without the incident, we swam, got completely exhausted running around with Zoe on the beach, hiked in this unbearable heat, and then hauled water like pack mules while cleaning up.

  You don’t want to ‘live every day like it’s your last.’ You just want to cram everything into one day without stopping to rest or appreciate anything.”

  “Daddy’s out of the shower!” Zoe runs toward us.

  Sam starts packing up his tools. “Come on… maybe the hot springs will help ease your fear of death. Or your fear of living. Or maybe your fear of living while being afraid of dying. Who knows?” He shrugs.

  “Is Uncle scared?” Zoe asks, eyes full of concern as she looks at me.

  “Yes,” Sam sighs dramatically, feigning deep regret.

  “No. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to die. That’s a completely natural survival instinct. And the only thing I came here to say is: don’t use Wally and me as disposable test subjects next time.” I insist, careful not to let Zoe pick up on the actual danger we were in.

  Sam rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’ll stay away from you. It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Wasn’t it?” He flashes a lopsided smirk.

  “What?” I grind my teeth, struggling to keep my irritation in check. His arrogance is infuriating.

  “I’m not going to stop running tests. If you don’t like it, if you’re scared, the only solution is to stay away from me.”

  “Zoe and Ella are fine. It’s different with them.”

  “Oh?” He raises an eyebrow. “They’re ladies, sure. But they went through the same route you did.”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  “What the hell did you do to them?”

  “Tested the brakes. With all the extra weight, the ABS only worked efficiently at speeds under 3 km/h. I knew that, which is why I kept the descent controlled. But I didn’t factor in how the suspension would handle that rock — or how we’d have to swerve to avoid it.” He stands up, toolbox in hand.

  “Yeah, up on the hill, we were going super slow. Sam hit the brakes every time the bike slipped.” Zoe nods, backing him up.

  “I calculate the risk. I’m not suicidal. But I don’t let risk — or fear — stop me.” He shrugs, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. “If you’re so scared, maybe you should stay away from me. Just like those cowards who begged for their own ‘safe’ workspace at the factory.”

  “They were scared of you?” Zoe asks, curious.

  Sam grins, clearly amused by the memory, then crouches down in front of her.

  “No, they weren’t really afraid of me.” His voice lowers slightly, more thoughtful. “You see, fear is deeply connected to change. That’s what they were afraid of. That’s what we’re all afraid of — change.

  And if you let fear take over, it becomes a cage. It keeps you safe, sure… but growth is change too. If you want to grow, fear has to come along for the ride — you just can’t let it drive. That’s the only way to move forward and get what you want.”

  Then Sam stands up and heads toward Wally’s truck.

  He’s talking about me — about how I’m a coward too hesitant to grow, about the change I want to reinvent myself, but how fear is keeping me from taking that step in my career.

  Sounds a lot like what Wally suggested. I don’t like that. I’m not a coward — I’m just waiting for the right opportunity. The documentary came up, but it’s not a good opportunity.

  That’s not what Sam is referring to, though. He wasn’t listening to my conversation with Wally earlier. He just thinks I’m a coward because I don’t want him taking another risk that might send us flying off a cliff again.

  Zoe, petting Furioso, asks, “If I’m brave, can I get everything I want?”

  Sam’s fingers trail over the scratches on the truck, inspecting them with care. “Courage isn’t about not being afraid — it’s about facing challenges despite the fear. After all, fear is useful too; it keeps us cautious. And it’s not just about courage. Persistence matters just as much.” He stops checking the truck and leans toward Zoe, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret. “So, the key is: courage and persistence. That way, you can achieve anything.”

  Zoe’s smile grows impossibly wide.

  “You know how I know this?” Sam keeps his voice hushed like he’s still telling her something top secret. “It wasn’t just me. The few assistants who stuck with me — they’re the ones who learned fast. Now, they’re independent, running their own projects, in way higher positions than the ones who let fear hold them back. That’s why I work alone.” His eyes narrow at me. “Because the ones who weren’t afraid left the nest and built their own.” Annoying, arrogant bastard.

  I decide to play with fire and poke at his fears instead. “So what you’re saying is… I should take the offer, face my fears, and you’ll be my guide despite acting like my executioner, in the end, will I come out stronger and independent? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

  “N. O.”

  “Oh?” I feign innocence. “Sounds like you’re scared I might actually accept.” I let a smirk slip. “You should face your fears and grow. Follow your own advice.”

  “I have no interest in developing my patience with you, your fans, the paparazzi, or anyone else you drag along.”

  “I thought your patience was infinite.”

  “Only when there’s something in it for me. And there’s absolutely nothing I gain from having you around. It’s not happening.”

  “But you said Johan was so interested…”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re not accepting. And even if you do, you’re not coming with me.”

  “Going back on a promise to him? Thought you were a man of your word.”

  “You wouldn’t want to be on my team. Or I’d make sure you didn’t want to be.” He glares daggers at me before turning to Zoe and taking her hand. “Come on, Zoe. Let’s tell your mom we’re leaving. It’s getting late.”

  “Unlike you, I’m not afraid to go with you. If I accept, I’m going with you. And that means you’ll have to face your fears.”

  I shouldn’t find this so amusing.

  But I can’t help but enjoy it when I see Sam just huff, lower his head, and let it go without a comeback.

  I win.

  “Can I be your assistant?” Zoe asks him. “That way, I’ll make a lot of money, learn a lot, and get everything I want, too?”

  “You’re still a kid. Think about that when you're older.” Sam turns to Ella, who’s sitting on the porch reading. “Ella, I’m finishing up my check, but get ready to pack everything up — we’re leaving soon!”

  “Transformers moment,” I joke, making Zoe laugh as we watch her mom put away her chair and step onto the platform. With the press of a button, the house shifts and folds, turning back into a truck.

  “Sam, you said I’m still a kid, but you also said you were working with engines and driving before you were even my age,” Zoe points out.

  “Touché…” Sam grins, stopping in front of the truck with her. “I could teach you a few things. What do you want to check first?”

  “The engine.”

  “Where’s the engine?”

  “Over there.” She points.

  “Yep, under the hood. Did you know it’s like a door? You have to tap it three times, wait, and then open it.”

  “Is that some kind of ritual of yours?” I tease, stepping closer despite myself. Might as well learn a thing or two — especially after what we’ve been through. Maybe knowing a little more would’ve helped.

  “It’s not a ritual. I wait for it to respond.”

  “The engine responds?” Zoe’s eyes widen.

  “No, I haven’t yet thought about making an engine that talks back.” He smirks at her before tilting his head. “But sometimes, the unexpected guests looking for warmth and shelter do respond. Especially the terrified cats that jump out and claw you to death the second you open the hood — like Felina. But if you’re respectful and knock first, they might leave peacefully.”

  “Is that how you met Felina?”

  “Yeah, four months ago in Norway. Her mother gave birth to a litter inside my car’s engine.”

  “Seriously? What happened?”

  “Her mom was half-wild, I think — didn’t belong to anyone. I’m pretty sure she’s the one who taught Felina to fish. But Felina was the runt, and one day, the mother left with the others and didn’t come back for her.”

  “She abandoned her?” Zoe’s eyes well up with tears.

  “No. I think she did what was best for Felina. She saw that I could take care of her — just like I took care of the mother and her kittens when I found them in my engine. Maybe she figured staying with me was the best chance Felina had.”

  “Because she was the smallest and weakest.”

  “Yes. Or maybe because she was meant to take care of me too. You have no idea how many animals she’s taken out to keep our space clean.

  Rats, cockroaches, spiders — even scorpions and snakes. Felina and Furioso spot those things long before I do. They keep us safe.”

  “They’re amazing. Furioso even saved my uncle,” Zoe says, beaming as she pats my shoulder like she feels sorry for me.

  Oh, come on.

  This is ridiculous.

  “Alright, give it three taps before opening and checking it,” I say.

  “Uncle, do you want to learn too?”

  “I’ll just listen. Go on, knock on the hood.”

  Zoe obeys while Sam smirks discreetly, clearly amused by my sudden interest.

  “Zoe, do you know how an engine like this works?” Sam quickly shifts into teacher mode.

  “It needs gas.”

  “And why does it need gas?”

  “I… I don’t know…” Zoe looks thoughtful.

  Sam turns to me, waiting for an answer.

  “Because the gas… needs to burn for the car to move.”

  “It’s a combustion engine.” Sam pulls out his phone and shows a simulation of an engine. “Inside, the fuel mixes with air in the cylinders, and when a spark ignites it, the explosion moves the piston. That piston movement is what makes the car go. See? But in this case, it’s a diesel truck, so it’s not gasoline that ignites — it’s diesel. And instead of a spark plug, it uses compression to ignite the fuel.”

  Sam’s gaze drifts as he thinks, then he crouches down and grabs a syringe from his toolkit. “A gasoline engine uses a spark to cause the explosion, but a diesel engine does this.”

  He covers the syringe’s opening and presses the plunger down.

  “Put your hand here,” he says, pointing at the syringe.

  “It’s warm!” Zoe exclaims, surprising me enough to make me touch it too.

  Sam raises an eyebrow at me.

  What? I was just curious.

  He shrugs and focuses back on Zoe. “So, the piston moves up and compresses the air so much that it heats up enough to ignite the fuel — no spark needed. Got it?”

  “Yeah… but why?”

  “Have you checked everything? It’s almost five,” Ella asks as she approaches.

  “Won’t take long,” he replies, then turns back to Zoe. “I’ll explain the rest over the radio later. Now, let’s check the oil and water.”

  “Okay, I’ve seen you do that before. This time, I’ll watch up close — but next time, when we’re not in a hurry, will you let me do it?”

  “Deal.”

  “I’ll do it this time. Just watch and make sure I don’t screw it up,” I suggest.

  “Let’s see about that.” Sam challenges me, tossing me a rag.

  He could be a little more encouraging like he is with Zoe. But if I say that, I bet he’ll start acting like I want him to treat me like a kid.

  Damn it.

  “I’m already in my bikini,” Ella chimes in, leaning against the truck. “The river water was freezing, but this one is thermal, right?”

  I check the transparent reservoir where I’ve seen him pour water before. “The water level is within the recommended range.”

  Sam nods.

  I pull out the dipstick and wipe it clean.

  “Yeah, it’s close to body temperature, but inside the caves, it’s cold. You should bring a jacket.”

  Ella nods. “I’ll pack in my bag.”

  I insert the dipstick back into the tube, then pull it out again, checking that the oil level is between the minimum and maximum marks.

  “Did you know the pool was built by prisoners?” Sam asks, clearly throwing out a random fact to fill the conversation. Pure courtesy for them.

  “Really?” Zoe asks, intrigued.

  “I think it’s good, right? Just the right amount.” I hold out my hand, showing the dipstick.

  “And the right color. It’s darker because it’s been used, but if it ever looks like sludge, has white foam, or metallic particles, something’s wrong.

  Now, to speed things up, I’ll handle the rest. But if you want, you can go check the tires. You’ve seen me do it plenty of times.”

  Yeah, every time we switch between paved roads and off-road terrain, he adjusts the pressure — even though the dashboard already displays the tire pressure. He just likes to check.

  “I’ll go first!” Zoe bolts the moment she jumps off Sam’s lap.

  She kicks the first tire, then grins and sticks her tongue out at me.

  Is she competing with me?

  I’m not letting her win. I quickly move ahead of her, my longer legs making it easy to check all the vehicles before she can.

  “Done. I win,” I say, turning to her.

  She huffs. “You’re an adult! You should’ve let me win.”

  “You wouldn’t have liked winning that way.” I crouch in front of her.

  “Zoe, a good loser is just as important as a good winner — as long as they learn from losing. Just like the winner should learn from what made them win.”

  Sam walks up to us and then raises an eyebrow at me. Behind him, Ella is glaring daggers in my direction.

  “Yeah?” Zoe asks, her eyes gleaming as she looks up at Sam.

  He hesitates, claps his hands together like he’s figuring something out, then lightly pats her shoulder — like you’d do to a buddy.

  Realizing that’s probably weird since she’s a kid, he awkwardly recalibrates mid-motion and pats her head instead… very slowly.

  “Nice one, Baymax. Ba la la la la,” I tease.

  He immediately pulls his hand back and sticks his tongue out at me.

  “I told you — I don’t know how to deal with kids,” he grumbles. “Let’s go.”

  With firm steps, Sam heads toward his truck.

  “You’ve really never had that kind of affection to know how it works?” I joke, amused by how absurdly robotic he is.

  “I’ve seen it in movies,” he says, shrugging. Then he climbs into his truck, slamming the door right after Furioso hops in.

  I get a punch to the shoulder, followed by a scolding glare from Ella.

  “Zoe, go with your dad. I’m driving your uncle,” Ella says, pointing to where he’s waiting by their truck.

  “How was I supposed to know he’s only seen it in movies?” I whisper to her as we walk to the pickup. “He said he had a dad until college, and he had a nanny. It’s not like he was raised by wolves.”

  “We don’t know what kind of childhood he had. He avoids talking about his past in detail,” Ella mutters as she gets in. “But I know one thing — Sam’s not used to showing affection. When he’s with Zoe, he acts like they’re just smaller versions of adults. Play like when he played for Furioso or Felina. He speaks to them the same way he’d talk to someone his age, treating Zoe as equals.

  But when Zoe hugs him, when she sleeps next to him, when she cries, or when anything emotional or involving physical affection happens... I’ve seen him try to figure out what she needs, and how to make her feel better. He just doesn’t know how to do it the right way because, I think, he never had that kind of care growing up.”

  “I thought it was strange how he saw her head falling from sleep and didn’t do anything, like offering his shoulder or lap for her to rest on.

  But It wasn’t meant to be a cruel comment, and you know that. Besides, he’s constantly hostile toward me. It was nothing.”

  I’m not taking it back. It wasn’t my intention to be mean, and even if it had been, I’d have plenty of good reasons to throw something back at him.

  “Just be more careful. He seems tough, but he’s sensitive. You’d know that if you paid attention to what he reads. Almost everything in his library for fun is romance novels and poetry. He’s not some cold brute like other men.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I scoff sarcastically. “Everything he does says otherwise.”

  Ella punches me again.

  “A... yes... yes, how could I forget? If you disregard that he’s rude and antisocial, then sure, you could consider him a man devoted to the code of chivalry and who follows it as a moral guide. But sensitive? Seriously?

  “He is.” Ella starts the engine.

  Here we go. Off to another odyssey, masterfully planned by our dear, sensitive, adorable friend. But this time, it looks like the torture will be in the form of stairs.