Ava
The market was bustling with activity as I made my way through the stalls, holding a wicker basket in my arms. It felt so different from last night; lively, cheerful, full of noise.
Such a stark contrast from that eerie feeling that had settled over Chris and me as we had hurried home.
“What should we do?” I had whispered, hardly daring to let go of Chris’s hand as we raced back through the pack’s narrow streets. “What if Elise…”
“Patrick said that there was a mole in Moonstone,” Chris had mused. “I’d hate to believe that it could be her, but…”
The implication had hit both of us like a ton of bricks. Elise’s figure last night had been all too similar, even sporting the same cloak, as the mysterious moonbite peddler. Neither of us wanted to believe that it was anythi
