"Five days."
The words didn't just fall; they crashed into the small room like a physical weight, pinning Madeline to the floorboards. In their world, copper coins were hard-won prizes, scraped from the dirt through back-breaking labor. Silver was a myth, a shimmering currency belonging to those who lived on the hill. Ten silver coins could buy a decent house, a small flock of sheep, a lifetime of security. Now, it was the price of her grandmother's life, and the sand in the hourglass was screaming as it fell.
Madeline stood paralyzed, her mouth agape. The world around her began to blur. The sound of the wind rattling the window and the crackle of the hearth faded into a dull, underwater hum. All she could hear was the frantic, uneven staccato of her own heart.
"Maddy?"
The soft pressure of a hand on her shoulder snapped the tether. She blinked, the room rushing back into focus. Her grandmother was staring at her, her face pale and her brow furrowed with a terrifying clarity.
"What is happening, Madeline? What debt was that man screaming about?"
Madeline's tongue felt like lead. She had never kept a secret from Maria—their bond was the only thing the poverty of the village couldn't touch. But as she looked at the woman who had only hours ago been unconscious on a cold garden floor, she knew the truth was a weapon. One more shock, one more burden of guilt, and Maria's heart might simply stop.
"I... I..." Madeline stammered, her mind racing for a thread of a lie.
"Oh, no," Maria whispered. She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as her breathing became shallow and ragged. The color drained from her lips. "My sweet child... what have you done? What have you gotten yourself into for me?"
"Grandma! Please, breathe," Madeline cried, rushing to her side, her own terror escalating at the sight of Maria's distress.
Miguel, seeing Madeline drowning in the corner she'd been backed into, stepped forward. He placed himself between the two women, his shadow tall and steady. "No, Granny," he lied, his voice remarkably calm despite the adrenaline still humming in his veins. "He was just making up threats because I bloodied his nose. He wanted to scare us. He's a bully, and bullies use words when they can't use their fists."
Maria turned her gaze toward him, her eyes searching his face. "And you," she rasped, "didn't I teach you that violence is never the answer? You are a good man, Miguel. This... this animalistic rage... it isn't you."
Miguel lowered his head, but his jaw remained set. "I'm sorry, Granny. But if I could turn back time, I would do it again. I won't sit by and let a man like that disrespect Maddy. Or you. Or Char. You are the only family I have. I'd fight the whole world to keep you safe."
Maria let out a long, shuddering sigh, the fight leaving her. "You children... you will be the death of me," she murmured, gesturing weakly toward her bedroom. "Charlene, help me. Take me to my room before these two give me a heart attack right here in the kitchen."
Charlene, ever the silent anchor, stepped forward and began to wheel Maria toward the back of the house. The silence that followed their departure was heavy, thick with the scent of copper from the blood on the floor and the metallic tang of fear.
Madeline didn't look at Miguel. Instead, her eyes drifted to his hand. His knuckles were split and darkening into a deep purple, the skin torn from the impact with Woodsman's jaw.
"Maddy, I'm so sorry—" he began, his voice thick with regret.
"Sit," she commanded, her voice trembling but firm.
She disappeared into the kitchen, her movements mechanical as she fetched a basin of cool water and a clean strip of linen. When she returned, she pulled a stool close to him. She took his hand in hers, it was large, rough, and shaking slightly and began to dab at the wounds with the damp cloth.
"Does it hurt?" she whispered, finally lifting her blue eyes to meet his dark, searching gaze.
Miguel let out a short, breathy chuckle. "This? This is nothing, Maddy. I've had worse from the forge."
He watched her work in silence for a moment, mesmerized by her long lashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. The mask hid her features, but her bright blue eyes sparkled, and he sensed a quiet beauty beneath. "I'm really sorry, Maddy," he said again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because of my temper, you only have five days. I've made your burden heavier. But I swear to you, I will help you pay him. Every coin. We'll find a way."
"You don't have to apologize for defending me," she said, her voice catching as she finished wrapping the linen around his hand. She looked down at their joined hands. "I appreciate what you did. More than I can say."
The room grew very still. Miguel reached out with his uninjured hand, his fingers grazing her veiled cheek, a gesture so tender it made her breath hitch.
"You know I would do anything for you, right?" he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw through the fabric. "I would die for you, Madeline. I'd do it without a second thought."
Madeline looked at him, the five-day deadline looming over them like a ghost, realizing that while she was fighting for her grandmother's life, Miguel was fighting for hers.