Seraphina cast a disapproving glance at Dominic. "Evelyn has such a lovely temperament. She’s far from home and surrounded by strangers; as her brother, you should be shielding her, not casting her aside."

Hazel, having managed to snag two more potatoes, finally found a moment to speak between bites. "Don't you know? Evelyn officially severed ties with both of them. All because of you."

Seraphina waved it off. "Evelyn lives for her brothers. It was just a fit of pique—angry words spoken in the heat of the moment. We can't take them seriously."

The others had shared that sentiment initially. A lone girl in the countryside, they reasoned, couldn't possibly survive without a brother's protection. But the reality was staring them in the face: Evelyn wasn't just surviving; she was thriving. She looked healthier than she ever had in the city, her skin glowing with vitality, and she even seemed to have grown an inch taller.

As they talked, the bowls on the table were scavenged clean. Seraphina had barely finished a single potato by the time she was ready to pivot from winning Caleb’s sympathy to actually eating. She looked down at the wreckage of the meal, stunned.

Though she looked down on such peasant fare, she was a guest who had traveled a long distance. To not be offered a proper feast was one thing, but for them to finish every scrap without even a polite gesture of restraint? It felt like a calculated insult to her importance.

Neither of the Ward brothers noticed her wounded pride. Dominic had long ago mastered the art of the "communal scramble," where talking was never allowed to interfere with chewing. As for Caleb, he was at the age where hunger was a permanent state; if it was edible and available, it was gone.

While they scraped their plates, Evelyn was enjoying a quiet lunch of handmade dumplings sent over by the Barretts, accompanied by spicy pickled cabbage from a neighbor. Only after she was satisfied did she begin organizing her "space."

She meticulously sorted the wild greens, wood ear mushrooms, and fungi she had gathered, stacking them in neat rows. As for the wild ginseng, she carefully nestled it into a decorative wooden box she’d scavenged from Mrs. Ward’s old sideboard.

That afternoon, taking advantage of the break, Evelyn headed for town. She had a wild boar to move on the black market and a few supplies from her space that needed a plausible "origin story" before she could use them openly.

She took the village oxcart, while Seraphina followed some distance behind, perched on the back of Caleb’s bicycle.

Evelyn was no stranger to the black market. In her previous life, she had learned that the city lacked what the countryside produced, and vice versa. Arriving at the hidden entrance, she wrapped a scarf tightly around her head and face, masking her features. She was a stranger here, and she felt the weight of several pairs of eyes tracking her movement.

Entry to sell cost thirty cents; buyers entered for free. Evelyn tossed the coins to the gatekeeper, a man named Barney, and asked casually, "Do you take wild boar?"

Barney looked her up and down, his interest piqued. "You have one?"

Evelyn nodded.

"How big?"

"Between three-hundred-fifty and four hundred pounds," she estimated.

"Wild boar goes for fifty-eight cents a pound," Barney said, leaning against the doorframe. "If it's fresh, we might go as high as sixty."

Evelyn knew her "space" was better than any refrigerator. A fresh kill stayed fresh indefinitely. Before coming to the market, she had used two cigarettes to bribe a local family for the temporary use of their back alley. If they proved trustworthy, she might make the arrangement permanent—a transit station for her goods.

In the secluded yard, she retrieved the boar. Time had stood still for the animal since it entered her space; the blood was still warm. She quickly bled the carcass to ensure no one could use "poor drainage" as an excuse to drive down the price.

When Barney arrived with a man named Mordecai to inspect the goods, they stopped dead. The steam was still rising from the boar’s blood in the cold air.

"You just kill this thing?" Barney asked, bewildered.

Evelyn gave a vague nod. "Freshness isn't an issue. Check the meat."

Mordecai scanned the surrounding rooftops and windows. He sensed other eyes watching from the shadows of the house and decided not to play games. "Sixty cents a pound. Weigh it."

The scale tipped at three hundred and eighty pounds. The total came to $228.

Mordecai counted out the bills, but handed her $230 instead. "If you get more stock like this, come find me at the east end."

Evelyn pocketed the cash. If the transactions remained this smooth, she was happy to have a regular buyer.

The boar was hauled away, leaving behind a basin of fresh blood. Evelyn had no taste for it herself, so she left half for the homeowners as a "thank you" and bottled the rest for Tess.

The yard owner’s attitude shifted instantly. "Lass, anytime you have goods, bring 'em here. We’re quiet folk. We don’t talk."

Evelyn nodded and slipped away. However, within minutes of leaving the house, she realized she was being followed. She quickened her pace, using a sharp turn in the alley to scramble up a low wall. From her vantage point, she waited to see which of the black market thugs was coming for their money back.

But it wasn't a thug. It was Seraphina.

Evelyn’s grip tightened on a jagged stone she’d picked up from the wall. As Seraphina rounded the corner into the deserted alley, Evelyn didn't hesitate. She threw the stone with a lifetime of pent-up rage. It caught Seraphina squarely, sent her crumpling to the dirt, blood blooming across her scalp as she slumped into unconsciousness.

Evelyn dropped from the wall and stood over the body. The silence of the alley felt heavy, expectant. If she killed her now—right now—and hid the body in her space, she could wait for the search to die down. She could dump the remains months later in some far-off ravine.

The thought made her heart thunder against her ribs. Revenge for two lifetimes was inches away.

Her fingers cramped around a second blood-stained stone. Her eyes grew bloodshot, filled with a terrifying, feral intensity. The woman on the ground was a heartbeat away from death.

"Evelyn."

The voice was deep, resonant, and came from directly behind her.

Evelyn turned her head slowly. Her pupils were blown wide, reflecting a bone-chilling hostility. She looked like a cornered predator, a trapped beast roaring behind the bars of its own ribcage.

"Evelyn," Adrian repeated.

He had seen someone following her and had tracked them both, but he hadn't expected to find her standing over a bloodied body with the eyes of a killer.

Evelyn began to come back to herself, but Adrian was already there, towering over her. There was no running.

Adrian’s brow furrowed into a deep line of concern as he reached down, pulling the rigid, trembling Evelyn up from the dirt.

She felt like a hunted animal finally caught in the light. A sense of total, crushing despair rose in her chest.

He saw. He saw me try to kill her.

What would he see when he looked at her now? A murderer? A monster? Cruel and calculated?

He didn't know. He couldn't know what Seraphina had done to her in that other life. I’m not wrong, she screamed internally. I’m not wrong!

Evelyn bit her lip so hard the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. Then, the dam broke, and her tears fell like a torrential flood.