Chapter 69

Bridget Reyes

The forest pressed in around me like it wanted to smother me. My cloak snagged on every damn branch, the wind slicing across my cheeks as I stumbled toward the crooked little house tucked between the trees. I’d barely slept. I hadn’t eaten, but I didn’t care.

She had to help me.

I banged on the door. “Open up! It’s me!”

A beat of silence, and then the door creaked open. Just an inch. Just enough to show one of her eyes, pale, tired, and already annoyed.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

“I wouldn’t be if I had another choice,” I snapped, pushing the door wide and stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The smell of dried herbs and old firewood smacked me in the face, same as always.

She didn’t stop me, just turned slowly and walked toward the hearth, her back bent and hands tucked into the long sleeves of her robe. Her steps were deliberate. Quiet. Like she had all the time in the world.

I didn’t.