Chapter 57 — When Care Breaks
The breaking point did not announce itself as catastrophe.
It arrived as a missed appointment.
Elowen stood in the doorway of the west Rest Hall, fingers tightening around the edge of the frame as she scanned the room again, as if the people might appear if she looked hard enough. The space had been prepared with care she always prepared it with care. Mats rolled and stacked by height. Cushions aired in the morning light. Clay cups laid beside the kettle, each turned upright, each checked for cracks.
The hearth was cold.
The air held that hollow, unused stillness that rooms develop when they are waiting for something that will not come.
No voices.
No laughter.
No tired shoulders lowering.
No one.
