Freda’s P.O.VGranny had packed too much for me. That was what I decided to call the old woman. Her real name was Aela, but I couldn’t bring myself to call her that, no matter how many times she insisted. “You make me sound older than I am,” she’d laugh softly, her frail hands trembling as she folded my clothes. But to me, she would always be Granny—the warmth I never had growing up.Now, as I tried to fit everything she’d given me into my bag, I realized just how much she’d packed. Two pairs of thick boots, dried herbs for the road, a silver comb, and more bread than I could eat in a week. I smiled faintly. She must have been worried I’d starve before finding my way home.My hand brushed over the light blue dress I had worn earlier that morning. It was beautiful—too beautiful. The fabric shimmered faintly, still carrying the faint scent of wild lavender from Emmy’s wash. I sighed. If we were returning to the forest, to a life of constant running, this wasn’t the kind of dress that wo
Last Updated : 2025-11-11 Read more