Jocelynn rose on the morning of the third day with a sense of quiet detachment. Everything felt distant, as though the world was lost in the frozen mists that shrouded the Vale. Fear was distant, but so was hope. Everything felt a little numb, but in a way, that was easier than the alternative would have been.
She still hadn't seen her sister since the night she'd read Ashlynn's letters.
Part of her had hoped that Ashlynn would come to her. That they would talk things over again. A small part of her wished for a reprieve, a few more days or weeks before she had to face her trial.
A larger part of her just wanted to talk to Ashlynn one more time. To say all the things that had built up in her heart since reading those letters. Instead, she'd written a letter of her own.
Ollie called the second day of preparations the Day of Farewells, and it was even more difficult than she'd feared it would be.
