Dark clouds brewed over the forest, and trees fluttered in the wind in a tumultuous yet enlivening symphony. I hadn’t used the sliding doors this time, not wanting to draw attention to myself, and climbed down my bedroom balcony. I’d ditched my phone. I’d ditched my heels for my regular shoes and zipped my sweater over my blouse.
I brought nothing but myself, not thinking of anything else. I entered the forest with my ponytail hitting my face, with the lethargy I’d felt since leaving the Weverin couple’s bedroom.
I’d never been to the forest in the evenings. It was much darker, chillier, as if the canopy had shrouded the forest from any remaining warmth, but it subdued the grating winds and sheltered the life within.
Goose flesh formed over my skin, a strangely exhilarating sign I wasn’
