The silence after Daniel’s departure pressed on me like a weight.
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until the sound of his horse faded into the forest and my lungs shuddered, dragging in air that felt sharp, like knives. My hands shook. My whole body did.
Adrian leaned back against the cot, pale and weak, but his eyes—oh, his eyes—were steady, locked on mine. “Emma,” he said softly, his voice raw from both fever and tension.
I collapsed beside him, burying my face in my hands. “He knows, Adrian. He saw it. He felt it. He’ll come back, and when he does—”
“He doesn’t have proof,” Adrian interrupted. His hand reached for me, trembling but insistent. “Suspicion isn’t the same as truth.”
I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. “You don’t know him like I do. Daniel doesn’t stop at su
