Page 323 of Black Reign

Her breathing changes.

“Xavier.”

I say nothing.

“No.”

The car turns.

Her hand tightens.

“No.”

Not refusal this time.

Disbelief.

A low stone wall appears ahead.

Overgrown lavender spills across one side of it.

Beyond it stands a cottage.

Small.

Cream stone darkened by age.

Blue-gray shutters that need paint.

A roof older than either of us.

One chimney.

A pear tree leaning toward the house as though it has spent decades trying to hear what happened inside.

Sabine stops breathing.

The car slows.

Her hand slips from mine.

“Stop.”

The driver immediately does.

She opens the door before I can.

“Sabine.”

She is already out.

I follow.

She stands in the road staring at the cottage.

For the first time since London, I have no idea what she is thinking.

Her shoulders rise once.