Chapter 83: Evershade
Dawn crept into Evershade like someone afraid to intrude.
Not a sunrise.
A hesitation.
A gray wash of light seeped through the mist, draping itself over broken beams and half-collapsed roofs. The smell of damp ash clung to everything—soot in the air, soot in our hair, soot in the cracks of the newly built walls where yesterday’s fires had licked too close.
I sat up slowly, stretching the stiffness out of my shoulders. My muscles protested, like my body wasn’t done being angry at me. I’d held time too tightly yesterday—so tightly the flow pushed back. When I lifted a hand to my temple, my fingertips brushed a dull ache, like a bruise on the inside of my skull.
Then I heard laughter.
Small. Light.
Unfiltered.
I blinked toward the noise and had to choke down a l
