"...Elder Marta."
The name hung in the frigid air like a death sentence, heavy and cold. The alley was silent now. The distant sounds of the fight inside the inn seemed to fade, swallowed by the weight of the moment. The rain lashed down, turning the alleyway into a blur of grey, but my eyes were locked onto her.
She didn't move.
Her shoulders remained hunched, her hands hidden in the heavy folds of her cloak. For a long, agonizing minute, the only sound was the rhythmic drumming of water against the ground and the distant, muffled screams from the tavern.
"Leo..." Her voice was a mere rasp, stripped of the grandmotherly warmth I had known.
"Say something," I said. My voice was raw and broken. "Say something, damn you."
She said nothing.
I stepped closer. My boots scraped against the wet cobblestones. The sound was loud in the silence.
