Chapter 43: "Th’inclement seasons[:] rain, ice, hail, and snow, which now the sky with various face begins[.]"

“To be completely honest with you, I’m just glad you’re not dead.”

Sawyer chuckles. “Sort of glad myself, actually.”

Rhys stares at the face of his favorite person in the whole world on his phone screen and smiles, albeit a little sadly.

“Tell me again about the Banshees,” he says.

So, Sawyer ...