Chloe’s pov
Two days after the ballroom fell apart, I found the one thing in this compound that couldn't turn on me: dirt.
I'd chosen the strip of land just past the kitchen garden, sun-warmed and soft enough that the spade sank in without much resistance. Lisa's seed packets sat lined up along the low stone wall, tomatoes and beans and a third variety she'd labeled only in her own shorthand, and I worked the soil in silence, grateful for a task that asked nothing of me but my hands and my attention.
After everything the ballroom had turned into two nights ago, the quiet felt like the first honest breath I'd taken since I'd arrived at Red Moon.
I didn't hear Alma approach until her shadow fell across the row in front of me.
"You've got good hands for this." She stood there a moment,
