Chapter 38
As promised, Luke’s camp was deep in the forest. Bird song took the place of road noise and cell-phone signals were spotty at best.
Bastion grew sleeker every hour in this setting, but Grace chaffed at the isolation. Each time I took over sitting with our cousin, she retreated to her cabin in silence. I wondered what she was doing there until the third morning when she showed up in the dining hall wearing a bed sheet turned into a haute-couture dress.
“That’s...impressive.” Luke’s murmur was wry. He’d done his best to charm my twin, and when that failed he started meeting each snub with a snub of equal or greater measure. Surprisingly, he drew more flies with vinegar than with honey, and this morning was no exception.
Because Grace—who still refused to speak to me—at least a
