Agnes
The Goddess Festival was in full swing by midday. Families strolled between colorful booths while children played on the lawn, running back and forth and nearly tripping some of the begrudging elders. Thea had long since abandoned us to join her friends at the face-painting station, although her pink-streaked bangs made her easy to spot in the crowd.
“So far, so good,” Elijah murmured, his hand resting on the small of my back as we surveyed the festival. “The turnout is even better than we expected.”
He was right. The estate grounds were packed with people—not just from our pack, but from neighboring ones as well. The donation booth near the entrance had a steady stream of visitors dropping bills and coins into the collection box.
“I still need to check on the surviva
