Only after they had left the abandoned residence behind did Caelith finally stop walking.
She pressed a trembling hand against the rough stone wall of a nearby building and lowered her head.
Her legs felt strangely weak beneath her as though the strength that had sustained her until now had suddenly seeped away, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its wake.
The world around her seemed distant, muted, and unreal.
Beside her, Erian remained silent. He knew better than to speak too soon.
The afternoon breeze slipped through the narrow alleyway, carrying with it the scent of dust and sun-warmed earth. It stirred loose strands of Caelith's hair, brushing them across her pale face.
Time stretched between them.
Neither spoke.
At last, she broke the silence. "So I'm not part of the Grandien family?"
Her voice sounded faint, fragile enough to shatter.
Erian turned toward her.
"You are."
Caelith froze. Slowly, almost mechanically, she lifted her head to look at him.
"What?"
