***Cassius***
I didn't sleep.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying the look on Aldrik's face when I'd told him I was with Silas, the way something had broken in his expression, the way his shoulders had hunched as he'd walked away.
I'd wanted to hurt him, and I'd succeeded spectacularly.
And now, in the gray morning light, all I felt was hollow.
The lie sat in my chest like something rotten, and I knew I couldn't leave it there. Not with Silas, who deserved better than being used as a weapon in whatever complicated thing was happening between Aldrik and me.
I got up, dressed, and was out the door before I could talk myself out of it.
Silas's workshop was on the other side of town, a sturdy building that smelled of fresh wood and varnish. I'd been there a handful of times, always impressed by the careful craftsmanship visible in every piece he worked on.
