CHAPTER 87 : THE PLACE THAT DIDN'T ASK FOR HER NAME

Time thinned.

Not lost—

just loosened.

Like the threads of a tightly held knot, finally softened by rain.

Naya sat in the middle of the glade, palms resting open in her lap.

She didn’t know how long she’d been there.

Minutes.

Hours.

Something beyond both.

The sun had shifted—moved enough to ch...

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