The early morning mist hung heavy over the valley as Agatha stood by the window, staring out at the dense forest that bordered their home. It had been days since Lucia had left, and her heart ached with worry. The quiet in their home felt oppressive, like the calm before a storm, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
“Where is she, Fenris?” Agatha’s voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of her anxiety. She turned to face her husband, who sat at the table, his brow furrowed in thought. “It’s been days. She said she was just going to get some air, maybe go for a walk in the forest, but now… now I don’t know.”
Fenris didn’t respond immediately. He had been thinking the same thing but knew they needed to stay calm. He had searched the forest himself,
