We didn’t talk as we walked.
Killian led the way, his pace fast enough to make me breathless, but I didn’t ask him to slow down.
I think he knew I wouldn’t.
Knew I couldn’t.
Not when something inside me was screaming for answers.
We left the school behind, cutting through the thin strip of woods that separated Ridgeway High from the back fields.
The trees closed in around us, filtering the sunlight into long, golden beams that dappled the forest floor.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
No birds.
No rustling.
Just us. And the low hum of tension that lived in the space between our footsteps.
Finally, Killian stopped.
A small clearing opened before us—nothing special, just a patch of mossy earth surrounded by trees.
But something about it felt… old.
Sacred.
He turned to face me.
