His voice booms through the trees, echoing from every direction. My heart twists---even now, even running from him, my body yearns to go to him when he calls. But I can't trust that instinct anymore. Can't trust anything but the need to survive.
I weave between the tree trunks, each step a gamble between speed and stealth. The forest floor is treacherous with fallen leaves and hidden roots, slick from yesterday's rain. One wrong step could end this.
But stopping isn't an option.
The trees press closer, branches reaching for me like grasping fingers. I dodge and pivot, making my path as unpredictable as possible. The rational part of my brain knows I'm leaving an obvious trail---broken twigs, disturbed leaves, probably blood from where my stitches have torn. But rationality took a vacati
