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sense them, standing with her. Standing with
their daughter against the witch who had
destroyed them.
Her grandmother spat on the ground,
baring her rusted teeth.
This death, though ...
It was not her death to claim.
It did not belong to the parents whose
spirits lingered at her side, who might have
been there all along, leading her toward this.
Who had not left her, even with death
separating them.
No, it did not belong to them, either.
She looked behind her. Toward the Second
waiting beside Dorian.
Tears slid down Asterin’s face. Of pride—
pride and relief.
Manon beckoned to Asterin with an iron-
tipped hand.
Snow crunched, and Manon whirled,