No one spoke.
Not after that.
Not after Elder Thomas's confession.
The courtyard remained frozen.
As though everyone was afraid that moving would somehow break whatever fragile thing had just appeared.
Hope.
My chest hurt.
Actually hurt.
Because hope was dangerous.
Hope meant something could be lost.
Again.
My wolf paced wildly beneath my skin.
Not frightened.
Excited.
Restless.
For the first time since she awakened, she felt almost impossible to contain.
My mother.
The possibility echoed endlessly through my mind.
Not dead.
Not dead when she left.
The words refused to let go.
I stared at Elder Thomas.
Desperate.
Terrified.
Needing more.
"Where?"
The question escaped immediately.
Raw.
Broken.
"Where did she go?"
The elder looked away.
My stomach dropped.
No.
