Maverick's eyes widened, and he took the box from her hands with reverent care, inspecting the faded apothecary seal on the front. "Megan, this costs— How did you…?"
"I got a good price," she replied with a shrug, clearly enjoying his astonishment. "Really good. And no, I didn't rob anyone."
He let out a short laugh, a breath of relief caught between disbelief and pride. "You're incredible."
She beamed, her eyes dancing with quiet triumph as she wrapped her arm around his. "Come on. Let's get it to Mama."
The soft creak of the wooden door followed them into the cottage. The familiar scent of warm wood and dried herbs wrapped around them like a comforting shawl. In the cot by the hearth lay Margret, her face pale and thin, but her eyes opened at the sound of footsteps.
She blinked at the light and struggled to sit up. "Megan?" Her voice was raspy, laced with fatigue.
Megan hurried to her side. "Yes, Mama. I'm back."
