Ally's POV
"Ally, trust me," Poppy insists, her emerald eyes shimmering with an earnestness that almost- almost- sweeps away my doubts.
"Fine." My voice is steady, hiding the storm of anxiety within. My fingers curl around the cool glass, and I bring it to my lips. The potion slides down my throat, bitter as betrayal, thick as regret.
"Let's go," I say.
Fingers trembling ever so slightly, I draw the slender obsidian communicator from its hiding place beneath my cloak. The night air clings to me, heavy with the scent of impending rain and the less discernible odour of deceit. I press the device to my ear, the cool surface a stark contrast against the warmth of my skin.
"Elliot," I breathe into the mouthpiece.
"Ally?" His voice crackles through. "Where are you? Is everyth
