SABRINA
I immediately got up when I heard footsteps outside. They were steady, familiar—Zed’s. My heart gave a small, unexplainable jump, and I scolded myself for it. He’d been gone half the day, saying he needed to help his grandfather, and I had no idea when he’d be back.
For some reason, I’d been listening for those footsteps.
I ran a hand through my hair, sighed, and opened the door. The evening breeze greeted me first, carrying the faint smell of roasted meat. Then I saw him.
Zed stood by the large wooden table outside, sleeves rolled up, focused on arranging something. The glow of the moonlight hit his face, softening his usually sharp expression. For a moment, I just stood there—watching him, like some kind of fool.
Then I snapped out of it and walked over, trying to look casua
