Bridget Reyes

The forest pressed in around me like it wanted to smother me. My cloak snagged on every damn branch, the wind slicing across my cheeks as I stumbled toward the crooked little house tucked between the trees. I’d barely slept. I hadn’t eaten, but I didn’t care.

She had to help me.

I banged on the door. “Open up! It’s me!”

A beat of silence, and then the door creaked open. Just an inch. Just enough to show one of her eyes, pale, tired, and already annoyed.

“You ...