The net tightens
Before Emilia had opened her eyes, a gentle, honey-gold wash of morning light streamed through the attic window, warming her cheek. She woke up to something kinder, almost alien, for the first time since she had run away in that desperate haze of instinct and fear. The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, coming from below and curving upward like a promise. The chilly borders of her chest warmed as it encircled her. She slowly blinked, allowing her eyes to settle on the rays overhead. The attic featured a modest bed pressed against the eave, a rough wooden floor, and a sloping roof, but it felt more protective than any opulent apartment she had ever slept in.Her body, which had trembled from exhaustion and days of racing, felt almost normal again. She took a
