It was her.
Drenched from the storm, shivering and soaked through her thin cloak, eyes red and brimming. Her frame was smaller than he remembered—or maybe it was the way she curled into herself, broken, defeated.
Maddy.
He didn’t speak at first. He couldn’t. There suddenly came upon him a weird dissonance--the picture of the woman whom he saw against the treachery which she had accomplished.
Her voice came out in a cracked whisper. “Ethan…”
He said nothing, jaw tight, shoulders rigid.
“I—” She stopped. Her bottom lip trembled, bitten raw. She glanced down, then back at him. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know I’m not allowed. But I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I just… I need to talk to you. Please.”
The fire behind him popped.
He kept his distance. “How did you get past the gua
