Meredith.
I cut into my eggs slowly, though my eyes kept sneaking toward Draven.
He bit into his sausage with his usual quiet intensity, jaw moving steadily, expression unreadable.
My mind kept circling back to earlier at the training ground—Jeffery asking to speak to him in private. I kept wondering what it was.
Would Draven tell me? Or was it one of those things he chose to carry on his own?
Before I could linger too deep in the thought, Gary's voice broke the silence.
"When can we—Mabel and I, tour Duskmoor?" he asked directly, his eyes fixed on Draven. "Since we came, we haven't been allowed to leave the estate."
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. I didn't bother looking up at them. Ever since my confrontation with Mabel, she hadn't spoken a single word to me.
And honestly, I just don't care.
