Chapter 675 From The Beginning
- Maeve
- Soren rises and walks to the pile of blankets scattered on the damp ground. Blankets that still smell like him, like us. He pulls a knife from the backpack, sliding the blade’s ridge over his palm–not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to feel it, likely imagining his own death by my hand.
- The note remains where I dropped it, the ink now bleeding across the water-logged graph paper.