Page 63 of Crown of the Mist

"Morning," I try, keeping my voice light. Careful. "Beautiful day for a walk to work."

She doesn't answer, just pulls her bag closer to her chest and starts walking. I fall into step a few paces behind her, giving her space while staying close enough to intervene if needed. Theo hangs back, probably heading up to take his shift watching the building.

The silence stretches between us, heavy with allthe things I want to say.We love you. We'd never hurt you. Please come home.

Because that's the thing - we do love her. We're in love with her. All of us. And we have been since the moment we laid eyes on her. It wasn't something that grew. It was a knowing. A bone-deep knowledge that she was ours and we were hers. We were just too stupid to admit it.

But I don't say any of it. I just walk, counting the cracks in the sidewalk, watching how the mist seems to follow her like a loyal pet. Three blocks to Maple Grove. Another day of standing guard while she takes care of others and ignores herself.

"You don't have to do this," she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, we do." The words come out fiercer than I mean them to.

She doesn't respond, just walks faster. I match her pace easily, my longer stride keeping up without effort. The mist swirls around our feet, and for a moment - just a breath - I swear it forms patterns I almost recognize.

We've always protected her, something whispers in the back of my mind. The thought feels both foreign and achingly familiar, like a half-remembered song.

I shake it off as we approach Maple Grove. Bree pauses at the entrance, her hand tight around the strap of her bag.

"I'm safe here," she says, still not looking at me. "You can go."

"I'll be around." I try for casual but probably miss by a mile. "You know, if you need anything."

She doesn't answer, just disappears inside without a backward glance. I find my usual spot - the coffee shop across the street with the perfect view of both entrances. The barista knows my order by now, knows to keep the refills coming.

My phone buzzes - the group chat we've set up for exactly this.

Gray:Status?

Jace:At work. No signs of Phil.

Rhett:Taking next shift. Update if anything changes.

I pocket the phone, settling in for another long day of watching and waiting. The mist lingers outside Maple Grove's entrance, thick enough that other people seem to unconsciously step around it.

Some part of me knows we can't keep this up forever. That eventually something has to give.

I just pray it's not her.

40. Bree

The day shift drags, each minute stretching like taffy as I move through my rounds. My hands work on autopilot—checking vitals, changing sheets, administering meds. Mrs. Peterson needs help with her lunch. Mr. Roberts keeps asking for Erin, though she transferred months ago.

I feel Jace’s presence across the street like a physical weight. He thinks I don’t notice him in that coffee shop, nursing endless refills while pretending to work on his laptop. Just like I pretend not to see Gray’s truck idling at the corner during shift changes, or Theo’s careful distance as he walks the perimeter.

The mist follows me through the halls, thicker than usual, curling around my ankles with an urgency I’ve never felt before. Like it’s trying to warn me about something.

I shake it off, pushing through my exhaustion asI grab an empty linen cart and head toward the storage room. Fresh sheets, pillowcases, supplies—something to keep my hands busy, to keep my thoughts from spiraling.

The fluorescent lights flicker slightly as I step inside, the cool air a contrast to the warmth of the main hall. The mist lingers in the doorway, hesitant, curling back like it doesn't want to follow me in.

A prickle of unease crawls up my spine.

And then—

"Well, look who it is."

My heart slams against my ribs at the familiar voice. I turn slowly, already knowing what I'll find.