The woods feel heavier tonight. Not dangerous. Not hostile. Just… waiting. Grace walks beside me, her hand brushing mine every few steps, grounding me the way she always has. The tracking spell glows faintly in the bowl I’m carrying, a soft pulse of light tugging us forward like a heartbeat. Delaney’s heartbeat. My charge. My failure.
Grace glances at me, her voice soft. “You’re quiet.”
I force a breath. “Just thinking.”
She gives me a look, the kind that says she knows exactly what I’m thinking and exactly how wrong I am. “You’re blaming yourself again,” she says. I don’t answer. Because she’s right.
“I should’ve found her,” I say finally. “I should’ve looked harder. I should’ve...”
“Liam.” Grace stops walking and turns to face me. “You thought she followed Brad. You thought she died
