Chapter 47 Threads Of Purpose

• Morning light struggled through the frost-laced panes, casting pale reflections against the rough wood of the cabin walls. Outside, a new layer of snow lay unbroken, muffling the world in a heavy, white hush. The hearth crackled with steady warmth, a lone defiance against the cold.
• Lucy woke before the sun rose, drawn from restless sleep by the brittle cold. Ash was already awake, stretched out near the hearth, while Lira dozed curled by the door. Daren still lay on the couch, his face less strained now that his fever had finally receded. His breathing came steady, his body no longer caught in the shivers of fever dreams.
• She pushed off the heavy quilt and rose, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. The cabin was quiet, and she cherished the momentary peace — one rare hour when no decisions had to be made, no scarce supplies tallied, no danger looming at the door.