Arla froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared into Morgana’s piercing gaze. It felt like her entire body had turned to stone. She could barely think, her heart was pounding too much to form a coherent response—or say anything that made sense.
“Sister Morgana,” Arla muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she frantically tried to control the panic rising in her chest.
“What is she doing here?... Is she following me?”
Arla shifted her weight instinctively, feeling the hidden book pressing against her side. Morgana’s sharp eyes seemed to pierce right through her, making her break out in cold sweat.
"Where are you coming from?" Morgana repeated, her voice low but laced thick with suspicion.
She stepped closer, tilting her head slightly, waiting for Arla’s response.
