CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The month after Cordelia's imprisonment was the quietest Haven had ever known.
No alarms. No attacks. No emergencies. Just the slow, steady work of healing.
Sasha woke each morning to sunlight and birdsong. She walked the borders out of habit, but there was nothing to guard. The facilities were closed. The families who had funded them were exposed. The war was over.
"You're still pacing," Rhys said one morning, finding her at the edge of the forest.
"Old habits."
"You need new ones."
She smiled. "Teach me."
Nadia taught her first class that week.
The classroom was small—a converted cabin near the school. Eight young hybrids sat at desks, watching her with wide eyes. They had been born in facilities. They had never seen the sun until Haven.
Nadia's hands shook as
