Isadora:
Yesterday was like a fever dream, or a living nightmare, just a blur of shadows and voices that I couldn't sort though. My body was weak, my head was foggy. I was in and out of concoiusness, but I knew the guys had been there, sometimes all of them, sometimes just one. But they never left me alone. Not once all night. I don't know whether to thank them, or be weary.
I finally had enough strength to get out of bed this morning. The air tastes of storm.
Ashwyck’s towers knife the sky, their slate roofs slick with last night’s rain, and the bells toll like a warning no one else seems to hear. I pull my cloak tighter, but the chill isn’t from the weather. It’s the way the shadows lean closer when I walk, the way I feel watched even when the courtyard is empty.
The boys are still
