SARA’S POV
I found myself behind the stables, pressed against the weathered wood where no one could see me fall apart. The tears wouldn't stop coming. They poured out of me like I was hemorrhaging, hot and endless and stupid. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to stem the flow, but it was useless.
From henceforth, you're dead to me, Saraphina Maychild.
His words echoed in my head, each repetition like a fresh knife wound. The way he'd said my full name—cold, formal, like I was a stranger he was dismissing from court. Like twenty years of friendship meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.
Maybe I didn't. Maybe I never had.
"Sara?"
I looked up to find Eamon standing at the corner of the stable, his face creased with concern. He approached slowly, like I was a wounded animal that m
