The forest smelled of damp earth and resin, moonlight slivering between the pines like blade-edges. River’s feet sank into soft loam as she followed the path that Isabelle had described in her letter—an old trail that opened into a small, hidden glade where two sisters could talk away from eyes and ears. Isabelle had sounded contrite in the message she’d sent: quiet, nostalgic, sister-to-sister… and full of remorse for the past times and actions.
River had almost let herself believe it.
Heiko had watched her go with a look that said he did not approve. He had not forbidden her; she had gone to seek closure, and he respected that. He had promised to trust her judgment.
Isabelle waited just inside the glade, hands folded, face the school-practiced mask of innocence. Her smile was the pre
