INDY
It was already the fifth week, and they were all waiting for Rome’s return.
Or perhaps it was only me, and I was simply projecting my restlessness onto the entire village.
I stood near the window, pretending to adjust the curtain for better light, though I had already done so three times in the last hour. The path from the ridge curved gently before reaching the clearing near our cottage. It was the route he often took when he arrived. He liked to come here first before greeting the rest of the village, reporting to me before anyone else.
The sun was already high in the sky. It was Sunday. He should have been here by now.
I leaned forward slightly, narrowing my eyes at every distant movement that could have been a wolf.
“Relax,” Mila chuckled from behind me, her voice warm as
