The river shimmered under the pale moonlight, its surface broken by slow ripples. The city's noise was a distant hum now, replaced by the soft rush of water and the occasional croak of frogs hidden in the reeds.
Catreena dropped onto a flat stone near the riverbank, her legs trembling from exhaustion. Sweat clung to her forehead, and each breath came shallow and uneven. For the first time since the frantic chase began, silence wrapped around her—heavy, pressing, almost terrifying.
Saad crouched nearby, her short frame tense, brown hair falling over her face; always watching, always calculating. Her brown eyes flicked toward the shadows, sharp and restless.
Suad leaned against a tree, towering above them both. His silver hair caught the moonlight like molten metal, gleaming against the dark. A black blindfold covered his eyes, yet somehow he seemed to see more than anyone else. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, as if danger didn't concern him.
For a moment, none of them spoke. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the river's whisper.
Finally, Suad spoke, his tone smooth, almost teasing.
"So," he said, tilting his head slightly, "why were those people chasing you?"
Catreena stiffened. Her fingers curled into her skirt. She didn't want to answer. Didn't want to relive it. But his voice—calm, curious—felt strangely safe.
"I…" Her voice cracked. She swallowed hard. "They think I'm… something I'm not."
Saad's voice cut in, sharper than Suad's.
"That's not an answer."
Catreena flinched. Saad's tone wasn't cruel, but it carried an edge that made her chest tighten.
"They've always hated my family," she whispered, staring at the river. "Said we… wouldn't follow their ways." Her breath hitched. "And now they say I've… done something unforgivable."
Saad's jaw tightened. She looked away, her voice clipped.
"You should've been more careful."
The words hit harder than Catreena expected. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the burning in her eyes from spilling over. She hadn't wanted judgment. She wanted… she wasn't sure. Safety, maybe. Understanding.
Suad pushed off the tree and walked closer, his blindfold catching the moonlight, his silver hair glowing like frost. He crouched down so he was level with her, his voice softer now.
"Careful or not," he said, "sounds like they're the problem, not you."
His tone was warm, almost protective—though his smile carried a flicker of amusement.
Catreena's chest loosened. She managed a shaky smile.
"Thank you."
Saad glanced at her, something unreadable in her expression, but said nothing.
Suad tilted his head, blindfold hiding his eyes, and murmured,
"You're safe with us. I promise."
Catreena believed him. She wanted to believe him. His words felt like a lifeline, even if something deep inside whispered caution.
Saad stood, her arms crossed, her gaze sweeping the darkened riverbank.
"We should move before someone sees us," she said flatly.
Catreena looked between them—Saad, distant and cold; Suad, warm and reassuring. Her heart made the choice her head wouldn't. She trusted Suad.
And that, she would learn, was a mistake.