Rissa’s POV

The forest hasn’t stopped moving since the river took him. Every shadow feels like a heartbeat. Every sound like a memory refusing to die.

We didn’t stop running until the trees swallowed the sound of the water behind us. Mark led the way, never once looking back, and I followed in silence, my breath raw and uneven. The ground was slick with mud, roots twisting beneath my boots. My fingers ached from gripping branches that tore at my skin.

When we finally slowed, the sun ...