Samara walked until her legs burned and her lungs ached.
The town disappeared behind her, swallowed by the darkness and the trees. The road beneath her feet was uneven, cracked, overgrown with weeds. No one traveled this path anymore. That was why she had chosen it.
Adrian floated beside her, his form flickering in the moonlight.
"You should rest," he said.
"I will rest when I am far away."
"You have been walking for hours. The sun will rise soon."
Samara did not answer. She kept walking, her boots crunching against the gravel, her breath misting in the cold air.
The ring on her finger was cold. Not the cold of metal left in winter. A different cold. A deep cold. The kind that came from inside.
She did not think about it.
