CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The morning light filters through the heavy canopy, casting a dappled pattern on the forest floor. I stretch lazily, my body still warm from Mark's embrace. The woods are silent except for the occasional chirp of a bird or the rustling of leaves in the wind. But as I rise to my feet, a disquieting chill settles over me, as if the forest holds a whisper of yesterday's secrets.
Not bothering to put on shoes, I pad outside, where the main clearing is shockingly empty.
"Hey," Gem's voice slices through the silence like a knife, loaded with accusation and something else—fear?
I turn to face her, my own heart beginning to race with anxiety. "Gem, what's wrong?" I ask, though the question feels hollow, even to my ears.
"Everyone knows, Isla." Her eyes are wide, brown orbs
