Fiona’s POV
The whispers weren’t subtle.
They slithered through the cracks in the walls, curling around doorframes like frost creeping over glass. They dripped from hushed voices, weaving into the air, too thick to ignore.
"Why is she still here?"
"She’s pregnant. And not with his child. It’s pathetic."
"Asher’s lost his damn mind. He never cared about outsiders. Why is she different?"
The words slashed through the morning stillness, laced with scorn, with resentment. But beneath it all—fear.
It was there when I stepped outside when Miriam let me breathe the open air for the first time in days. The weight of their stares bore down, pressing against my skin, sharp and heavy. Invisible threads of tension wound tighter with each second.
They didn’t want me here.
And they were making
