There is no time, Olivia. They will come for you. We need to run." The woman's voice trembled now, not from fear, but urgency. She extended her hand again, fingers pale and damp, her eyes fixed on Olivia as though willing her to move. But Olivia didn't.
Her feet remained rooted to the icy ground. "Wait," Olivia said, her voice cracking. "You haven't told me anything. How are you alive? Where have you been all these years?"
The woman's smile faltered.
"I can't explain now. We must go," she insisted, stepping forward. "Don't you feel it? The dangers lurking around you? You can not trust Damon or Rhistel. You can not trust humans. They have killed you once while I kept waiting."
"I knew my mother," Olivia said quietly, heart pounding. "But she died. I saw her body. I buried her."
The woman's eyes narrowed, something flickering across her face—disappointment, or something darker. "That wasn't me," she snapped. "That was a lie they fed you. A trick to keep you weak."
