The air on this side of the river felt different—warmer, wilder, as though the forest itself had exhaled and released her into a place where rules didn’t matter and the world beat with a rhythm she had only ever imagined in dreams. Ashara adjusted her backpack and let her fingers trail over the ivy-covered stone wall that rose beside the gravel path. This was it. Westwood.
She had made it.
From the moment she slipped out of her own college’s back door, adrenaline had been surging through her. The jungle hadn’t scared her the way it should have. The branches that reached out like claws, the sound of leaves crunching beneath her feet, even the eerie silence between birdcalls—it all made her feel alive. Not trapped. Not watched. Not guarded.
Free.
The crossing had been easy—too easy. Her friends Amira and Jade were waiting just like they promised, and their reunion had melted the stiffness from Ashara’s shoulders. Together they had climbed into the small wooden rowboat and crossed the ri
