|Kairos|
“Why do you need to do this? You don’t have to, Snow,” I said quietly, worry etched into every word as we stepped into the dim, cold halls of the Warden’s Keep.
Father led the way in silence, his pace steady and unyielding. I could tell from the direction we were heading—and the weight of the air around us—that the prisoners were being held in the deepest, darkest part of the Keep. The place reserved for the worst of criminals.
Snow walked beside me with a calm expression, but I didn’t miss the subtle tension in her jaw, or the way her eyes occasionally lost focus, like she was bracing herself for what waited ahead. At first, I hadn’t objected when she told me she wanted to see the Clarksons. But now, after witnessing that brief flicker of hesitation before we entered—the way
