Rylee
On the way to the parlor, Meg's words echo in my mind. An old friend of mine? Who could it be? Someone important enough for Alvar to personally send Carl to Greenvale to fetch.
The walk from the patio to the parlor isn’t long, but my thoughts are still jumbled when I reach the door. “Go on in,” Meg says, “The guest is inside.”
I nod and turn the doorknob.
The room is softly lit, curtains drawn. A tall, thin figure stands with his back to me, his brown hair a mess, his body dirty and bloodstained. At the sound of the door, he turns, his posture defensive, expression fierce. But when he sees me, the hostility fades. “Rylee!” he exclaims, his voice filled with relief.
“Syd, what are you doing here?” My heart skips a beat.
Meg’s eyes flick between us. “I’ll leave you two some space.” She closes the door quietly behind her.
Now it’s just Syd and me. I take a careful look at him—he’s much thinner than when I left Greenvale, his cheekbones too sharp. His hair is disheveled, and his clo
