43. The Truth Beneath the Silence
Norman
The scent of dried herbs hit my nostrils before I reached the door.
I paused outside the healer’s hut, my knuckles halfway raised to knock.
I had been here before… but I have never dallied. It was business at most and never small talk with the healer. I had always thought of it as a place for sprained ankles, cough syrups, and pup fevers. But now… now it was where Raven worked.
And Raven mattered.
I knocked once, then stepped inside. I knew that the healer knew it was me even without announcing myself.
The space was warm, filled with a quiet hum of activity. Shelves lined with jars and bundles of plants created a soft, earthy fragrance. In the corner, Wren was sorting through a bowl of roots. Her silver-streaked braid swung over one shoulder
