Both POVs
Lenora
The following morning, I was at the bridge before dawn.
Old habit. The light at that hour always looked like it was deciding something — not fully committed to day yet, still holding some of the dark's qualities. I stood at the rail and looked downstream.
The founding document was four weeks old. The oversight body had its first three members named. The exile abolition was being implemented in two territories already, with four more in process. The building at the refuge had gained its new room, which smelled of fresh timber and the herbs Kellan had helped install on the drying racks.
Somewhere in the capital's custody system, Marcelline was sitting with her three confessions and the evidence of forty years and the letter she had written to a son she had given away.
