We stopped over in town to secure a scant shelter for the night. There was no luxury of time for leisurely sleep—every minute, every heartbeat counted, for if we were even a moment late, Jacquetta might perish.
Before the sun graced the horizon again, we must resume our journey. This urgency weighed heavily on me, an ever-present pressure that darkened my thoughts.
Inside the carriage, the world outside was reduced to a swirling, white landscape. I closed my eyes in futile attempt at sleep, but rest was elusive as my mind churned with thoughts that bordered on madness.
I could not escape the outrageous possibility whispered by Gioffre—the memory he had hinted at. A hunch gripped me, one I fought to dismiss because it seemed too absurd to be true.
