Nevara
Jonas froze.
“She is?” he asked quietly.
Noah shrugged, but there was something guarded in the movement. “Yeah.”
“What bad things did she do?”
Noah hesitated.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just know it was really bad.”
The room shifted.
Jonas processed that.
“Oh.”
That was all he said.
But the weight in it was heavy.
Thoren’s hand found mine instinctively.
Two boys.
Two mothers in prison.
Two very different stories.
The same consequence.
“Alright,” I said gently, stepping forward before the air thickened further. “You have a couple of hours before bed. Play. Build something. No sword fights inside.”
Noah grinned. “We’ll build a fort!”
Jonas nodded. “A jail fort?”
Noah gasped. “That’s dark.”
They dissolved into laughter and scrambled toward the toy chests.
Tho
