Mira’s POV:
The clock had read 4:30 p.m. when I left—sunlight still bright enough to pierce the leaves overhead but starting to soften at the edges. The forest behind the Winters' house stood tall and dark, shadows stretching long across the ground. I stepped into it without hesitation. This was familiar. This was safe... or safer than home.
Each step jarred my ribs, each inhale scraped against the hollowness in my chest. I moved slowly, the uneven path unforgiving beneath my battered feet, and the bandages hidden beneath my hoodie were already damp with sweat. My cuts throbbed, tight and angry against the salt of my skin.
I tried to clear my mind as I moved forward, but it was impossible. Waves of grief crashed through me relentlessly, as if the pain wasn’t just in my chest but everywh
