Chapter 366

• The faint silver of the moon barely filtered through the canopy overhead—enough to turn everything into blurry shadows, but not enough to trust where I was putting my feet.
• The silence was the worst part. Not true silence—there were crickets chirping in frantic waves, toads croaking low and wet, owls hooting in distant, mournful calls, and every few minutes some unnameable rustle or snap that made my heart slam against my ribs.
• Amber walked with purpose, her pistol held out in front of her like an extension of her arm.