Echo Weaver
## The Echo Weaver The rain tasted like rust. Elara spat, pushing a damp strand of auburn hair from her face. The dig site at the Whispering Peaks felt colder than usual, leaching warmth straight from her bones. Weeks she’s…
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The Bloom Thief
## The Bloom Thief The chipped Formica countertop stuck to Elsie’s forearm. Rain lashed against the window of the diner, blurring the neon glow of “Rosie’s” into a smear of pink and blue. She traced the condensation with her fingertip,…