And as she placed one last stone at the edge of the ravine—an unmarked white piece of quartz, one Chloe had once given her during a hike as a child—Sophia whispered:
“Sleep, little wolf. I’ll keep running for us both.”
She turned and left.
The trees didn’t call her back. The wind didn’t resist.
She had come to bury her ghosts.
But she was leaving with something far greater.
Felix was waiting at the gates when she returned.
He didn’t speak immediately, just walked beside her as she moved through the estate gardens toward the main house. The sun was beginning to dip, gilding the sky in honey and rose gold.
“How was it?” he asked gently.
“Hard,” she admitted.
A pause.
“Good,” he said.
She stopped. Looked at him.
He smiled. “You look different.”
“Do I?”
He nodded. “Lighter. Like
