ELEANOR
The sun rose early and filtered in through the window in pale and thin strips across the boards.
I hadn't slept.
My head still ached, and when I closed my eyes, I remembered either the woman in my dream or the figure I saw in Ciaran's form when he killed that man.
The hallway outside was louder than it was yesterday.
Boots thudded more frequently, and I stood in the doorway to listen in, and so I overheard snatches of low, clipped, rapid voices as if speakers did not wish to be overheard.
Someone passed by. Then another.
I sat back down on the bed, pulling the blanket around my shoulders.
I’d learned a long time ago not to ask too many questions, not that I could ask if I wanted to anyway.
People lied when they wanted to, and I’d spent years around people who wanted t
