The next morning, Gideon woke long before the sun had fully risen. The sky beyond his window was still dark, touched only by the faintest trace of gray along the horizon. The coven remained quiet. No footsteps moved outside. No voices drifted between the houses. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
But Gideon had barely slept. He had spent most of the night staring into the darkness, replaying every moment he had shared with Agatha the night before. Her expression would not leave his mind. There had been sadness in her eyes. Guilt, too. But beneath both, there had been something else. Resolve.
A quiet, painful acceptance, as though she had already made a decision and was only waiting for the courage to live with it.
She had looked at him several times as if she wanted to speak. Her
