Nora traced possible lines with her eyes, committing them to memory. When they started climbing, it wasn’t tentative. The limestone was cool and dry beneath Ethan’s palms, textured enough to trust if he stayed deliberate. Each move flowed into the next, not because it was easy, but because they had decided that they were going all the way up.
Nora climbed a few feet to his right, close enough that he could see the tension in her shoulders every time she shifted her weight. Neither of them rushed. Every move was deliberate, tested twice before committing. They climbed in near silence, broken only by the scrape of skin on stone and the soft puff of chalk. No rope commands. No metal clinks.