Evelyn
I was ready to leave.
The carriage waited at the edge of town, its wheels creaking under the weight of my luggage and the finality of my decision. I stood beside it, cloak drawn tightly around my shoulders, the morning chill cutting through my resolve like a knife. I had told myself again and again that this was the right choice. It would be a clean exit, a quiet departure. No goodbyes.
And yet, I couldn’t stop looking back.
Each familiar rooftop, every scent of pine and firewood, even the rutted road leading away from the village tugged at me like roots I hadn’t known were growing.
There was still so much I hadn’t said. So much I hadn’t done. And worse, so much I didn’t understand. Emma’s strange accusations, the rogue’s death I had heard about in whispers from the nurse
