Grace
Kent found me in the hallway on my way back from Mara's clinic, where she had, with very little sympathy, re-stitched my arm and told me I was lucky I hadn't torn them completely open. She refused to tell me anything about Bane, which was— in all honesty— fair.
Kent was leaning against the wall outside my room with his arms crossed and an expression that told me he wasn't very pleased I had kept him waiting.
"Pack a bag," he said once I was within earshot.
I stopped walking. "Excuse me?."
“You heard me. Take what you need. We’re leaving."
A spark of something that felt dangerously like hope flared in my chest. I walked inside the room I had been given and grabbed the small bag I’d managed to scavenge from the bar’s storage. I didn't have many things to take, so the bag was enou
