CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SIXZOEYHannah was fussing over the herbs by the window, humming a low tune, while Ronald sat across the room sharpening a dagger. The contrast was hilarious. One of them was the picture of calm, and the other was a murder weapon with legs.I stood at the doorway, fingers twisting together nervously.“You okay?” Hannah asked without even turning around. She always knew.“Can I talk to you guys?” My voice came out weird—tight, wobbly. Ronald looked up immediately.Hannah turned, her expression softening the second she saw my face. “Of course. Come in.”I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, suddenly wondering if I should’ve waited or maybe told them one at a time. Or maybe just never said anything and quietly raised a child in secret in the forest like a fairy tale witch.But it was too late to back out now.Ronald tilted his head. “You look like someone who’s about to confess to a crime.”“Maybe I am,” I muttered.Hannah gestured toward the seat besid
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