Chapter 24There were fewer manuscripts in the trunk than she’d expected, and what little hope she’d held—her last—deflated, leaving behind a hollow ball of worry in her chest.
Each sheet was as fragile as twice-used onionskin, flaking apart as she separated the leaves and set them on the inside of the open trunk lid, one by one.
The Beast sat behind the trunk, eyes tracking her every movement. His ears were set far back, as though listening to all the sounds in the caves, from the drip of water to the thrumming deep within the rocks under them, and not liking what he heard.
She directed the flashlight’s beam and scanned the first line of each document as quickly as she could, to set aside any that were obviously irrelevant. Then she turned off the light to save the battery, and ran thro
