The mist rolled low through Caldera's Reach that morning—thick and heavy like something was trying to smother the sun before it could rise.
Eris Vale slouched behind the counter of the library's front desk, flipping absently through a weathered astronomy textbook she'd read four times already. Outside, the streetlamps still glowed faintly, even though it was nearly noon. Fog made the town feel smaller, like they were trapped in a snow globe someone had forgotten to shake.
The bell above the door chimed.
"Don't say the word 'prophecy,'" she muttered before looking up.
Deputy Langley stood in the doorway, his uniform damp and his face pale. That alone was enough to make Eris straighten.
He hesitated. "Mave here?"
"My aunt's in the archive room," she said. "What happened?"
Langley looked like he wanted to say something else—something normal—but the words stuck. Finally, he said, "We found him. In the mountains."
Eris frowned. "Found who?"
He stared at her for a moment too long. "Thomas Graye."
She blinked. "That can't be right. He's been gone for six months."
"I know."
---
They brought him in wrapped in blankets, shivering and silent, eyes darting like he was still lost in the trees.
Eris watched from behind the library window as the ambulance doors shut. She should have looked away. But just before they did, Thomas looked up. His eyes went wide with recognition as his lips moved.
And Eris—through the fog and commotion around her—saw the unmistakable shape of her name on his lips.