Mira was waiting outside the guest house before Max arrived the next morning.
She wore a clean blue dress Anna had sent over, along with a gray cloak that concealed most of the marks beneath her skin. Garrick stood behind her carrying a satchel large enough for a week-long journey.
"What is in the bag?" Max asked.
"Medicine, water, bandages, blankets, food, a change of clothes, and several emergency charms," Garrick answered.
Mira glanced over her shoulder. "He packed less when we crossed the Blackstone Mountains."
"We were traveling with a wagon then."
"The hospital is fifty steps away."
"Fifty-seven." Garrick corrected.
Max looked at Anna. "Did he count?"
"Several times."
Garrick did not appear embarrassed. "If she collapses, I need to know the fastest route."
The old man's concern was understandable. Knowing the curse could no longer permanently take Mira from him did not erase five years of habits in one night.
