EIRA'S POV
The wooden floorboard of the porch freaked underneath me as the chair rocked back and forth, the rhythm matching the unsteady beating of my heart. I placed my hand on the chair handle. The wooden surface was rough, worn out from years of use.
It was evening now, and the sun had almost disappeared into the horizon. The soft evening light bathed the cottage, shadows falling on the grassy floor. I rocked the chair again. Forward, backwards, and I did it again, as if to steady myself, to calm the thoughts racing in my mind.
The words my aunt had spoken that day to me in her cave echoed in my head, refusing to leave no matter how many days had passed. They were etched deep in my mind, and they practically lived in my lodges somewhere between my ribs. I inhaled, feeling my chest ti
