CHAPTER 22 — THE VILLAGE AND THE TRUTH
The village smelled of smoke and damp earth. The kind of smell that clings to clothes, hair, and memories, as if warning anyone who enters that this place had seen too much.
Selene clutched my arm, notebook pressed against her chest, as Mira and Dalton flanked us. Their expressions were a mixture of skepticism and fear—fitting, considering what we’d just survived in the forest.
The village was quiet, too quiet. Shutters closed, doors bolted, eyes peeking from cracks. And yet, the air was heavy with anticipation.
The villagers had gathered in the main square. Whispers filled the space—about us, the attacks, the creature that haunted the forest. Some faces were fearful, others angry, some curious. But all eyes, ultimately, landed on the same two fig
