Summer laid there for a long while after Brandon left her alone, not daring to make a sound, fearful that any noise would bring him crawling back. Her arms were wrapped around her, as if to protect something that had already been taken. She could still feel his hands all over her, exploring every last part of her. It made her skin crawl.
The temperature in the tent succumbed to the cold of the night, but Summer didn't care. She just lay there, unable to gather to courage to move or wipe the tears from her eyes, the beating of her heart not slowing even an hour in. Everything was quiet now, just the insects in the night and Baxter's sedated breathing. Like nothing had happened.
She laid there for some time, knowing full well what happened, but wishing it hadn't.
After awhile, Summer sat up calmly, took the ties from her hair and left the tent.
It wasn't until she was outside on her knees voiding her stomach of the day's contents that she let herself feel anything at all. She didn't care about the owls or the stars or the cameras, what they thought of her, or if they heard her. She only cared about letting it all out. Burying her face in her hands, not even bothering to wipe the bile from her lips, Summer let herself sob.
In the morning, Brandon would find her gone.