As evening settled over the flower field, the light softened into shades of orange and gold. The tall flowers swayed gently, their silhouettes stretching long across the ground. Near the old wooden house, Tyler had set up a simple bonfire using dry branches and fallen wood. The fire crackled quietly, pushing back the chill that crept in with nightfall.
Dinner was simple.
A few fruits gathered from the forest. Potatoes roasted directly in the embers, their skins charred and splitting open from the heat.
They sat around the fire in a loose circle.
Chole ate quietly, her movements slow and calm. She didn't seem shaken at all— no signs of panic, no confusion. It seemed she had lost consciousness the moment she was captured, sparing her from remembering anything that had happened afterward.
That, at least, was a relief.
