#Chapter 87: The Meeting

MAGGIE Seven Years Ago The wind had that sharp, early-autumn bite to it—the kind that whispered of coming frost and longer nights. I moved through the trees in silence, the familiar rustle of leaves beneath my boots soothing in its predictability. Carly and Erin were back at the cabin, patching up the girl we’d helped. “Mia,” they’d called her. She didn’t remember who she was. Barely remembered how to speak at first. But she had that look in her eyes—wild, haunted, proud. The look of someone who’d survived something and didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry about it. We hadn’t known then who she really was. But I’d known—instinctively—that helping her meant something. Still, being in that tiny cabin for more than a few hours at a time made my skin itch. So I’d slipped away into the trees, hoping for quiet. That’s when I heard him. “—Na!” The voice was distant, echoing through the trees, but it was enough to make me pause. Male. Strong. Not rogue. Another voice