43

I pulled my legs into my chest and said nothing. My guard was up. If Night trusted this woman, it was unlikely that she would be any help to me.

I watched the woman step inside and close the door behind her. The roll of clothes was no longer packed beneath the door, so it slid shut more easily. She was beautiful and looked to be in her early fifties. Her thick, snow-white hair was collected into one long braid down her back. She was slender and graceful, and she had eyes that were just as green and vibrant as Night’s.

At the scent of something savory, my gaze lowered to the woman’s hands. She’d brought a glass of water and a bowl of rice, and what looked like some kind of thick sauce or curry. The smell was divine, especially after four days straight of eating small rabbits and berries. My mouth began to water.

“I’m Violet Shepherd,” the woman said. From the way she smiled, she didn’t seem offended by my silence. “I guess you could say that I’m responsible for the man who brought you