~ Nyra

I stared into my mother’s eyes and saw her fear. And if I was being sincere, I understood it.

Before now—before our lives became this complicated—I was usually the one who instigated the quick escapes. I was the one who urged her to leave.

I was the one who told her to pack up at the slightest sign of danger. In fact, before we came here, I remembered clearly that I had wanted us to run too.

So her surprise was valid. But so was my decision. I couldn’t leave.

“Nyra…” my ...