The walk back from the burial site was quiet. Lily’s eyes were still puffy from crying, but she felt lighter. Giving her mother a proper farewell had lifted a weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying.
After the funeral pyre was reduced to ashes, Lily collected what remained and placed it carefully in the cloth bundle. She still wasn’t sure what the next step was.
Zayn walked beside her, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the late afternoon sun. Martha and Ragnar followed behind them, keeping a respectful distance.
No one spoke. The crumpling of leaves under their feet and occasional bird calls were the only sounds breaking the silence.
As they neared the edge of the forest, Ragnar suddenly tensed.
“Someone’s waiting for us,” he murmured, moving closer to Lily protectively.
Lily squinted and saw a female figure standing at the tree line, arms crossed and posture rigid. Victoria. Even from this distance, Lily could feel the heat of the woman’s glare.
