Adeline’s POV
I woke before the sun came out.
The house was quiet in that soft way before morning really began. I lit the small lamp and set the checkered picnic mat on the table. Bread into a tin. Sliced apples brushed with lemon so they wouldn’t brown. Cheese wrapped tight in cloth. A jar of honey, two small knives, napkins, cups, and a clean blanket. I filled one flask with tea and another with sweet water. My hands moved fast; my head did not.
Today wasn’t just a picnic.
Today was a chance to stand close enough to Vincent to ask what I should have asked years ago. And to watch his face when he answered.
Eve stretched inside me, alert and wary. “Be careful,” she said. “Questions are hooks. If you tug too hard, you will bleed.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But I need to know. For the bo
