FREYA
The knock startled me more than it should have. I froze halfway through folding the blanket over the bed, the soft fabric clenched between my fingers. For a moment, the silence of the packhouse pressed in around me, so thick I could hear the faint sound of my own heartbeat.
“Hello? Are you in there?”
The voice that floated through the door was light...bright, even.
I stood there a second longer, indecisive, before my curiosity won. My hand hovered over the handle before I twisted it, pulling the door open.
A girl stood in the hallway, maybe my age, maybe younger by a year or two. Her hair was a warm brown, braided neatly down her shoulder, and her smile...gods, her smile—was the kind of smile that made you feel it wasn’t forced, even if you wanted to believe it was. She balance
