(Kaelen)
The note arrives on a Wednesday.
Not through the gate — that's the first thing wrong with it. If it had come through the gate, there would be a guard report, a delivery log, the standard Silver Crescent intake that Theron has running on everything since the holding. It doesn't come through the gate. It comes through me.
I'm in the market.
Sora needed things from the village suppliers, practical pack business, and I offered to go because I've been needing to be outside the compound walls more than I've been admitting. Not because anything is wrong — everything is, by most measures, more right than it's been in the entire time I've been here. The drawer. The photograph. My mother's face. I've been sitting with all of it for three days and it's heavy in the good way, the way thin
