The scent was faint at first, but it called to him, a pull he couldn’t ignore. Lowell’s stride lengthened, every step heavy with purpose as he followed the trail through the battered forest. The war was ending — he could feel it in the stillness creeping back into the air. But his heart hadn’t settled. Something was wrong. That scent… it was familiar. Too familiar.
Nathan jogged behind him, his breathing ragged, confused but following without question. “Lowell… what is it?” he asked, but Lowell didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His instincts were louder than words.
The scent grew stronger, sharper. Desperation. Fear. Blood.
Lowell broke through the last of the trees and froze.
In the clearing ahead, a guard was carrying her. Nana. Limp in his arms, head lolling to one side. Her stomach round
