Dawn came reluctantly, a pale and fractured thing that seeped through the canopy like light afraid of what it might reveal. The forest still bore the scars of the night—charred earth, shattered roots, the faint metallic taste of old magic lingering in the air. Nothing sang. Even the birds seemed to hold their breath.
Evelyn woke to the sound of River's heartbeat.
It was the first thing she reached for now—not visions, not echoes of futures yet to fracture, but presence. Solid. Immediate. Real. Her cheek rested against his chest, his arm curved around her as if he could anchor her to this world by sheer force of will.
For a moment, she stayed still.
Without foresight, the world felt… wrong. Too quiet. Too undefined. Like standing on the edge of a cliff in the dark, unable to see how far the fall might be. Panic fluttered in her ribs before she crushed it down, breathing slowly, deliberately.
This was what she had chosen.
