Lila
The scent of pine and damp earth hit me the moment I stepped from the carriage. Nightfall Pack always smelled earthy. And like wet stone and forgotten promises thanks to my father.
The estate loomed quiet and gray under a sky streaked with morning haze. It looked the same, but didn’t feel the same. Not anymore.
I moved quickly through the entry hall, past the servant who didn’t offer to take my coat. My boots echoed against the stone as I made my way toward the infirmary wing.
The air there was still, tinged with bitterroot tea and antiseptic. It felt like a place trying too hard to pretend it wasn’t full of dying. I hated that my mother was here.
She lay beneath layers of wool, her skin pale against the pillows. My mother’s hair had thinned more than I remembered. Her breathing
