Page 214 of Bound By Crimson

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The next night, she came again.

This time, she opened the door.

The chill kissed her skin. Her breath fogged in the dark.

She stepped out.

The grass was cold beneath her feet.

It clung to her soles like it didn’t want her to leave.

She walked slowly, staying to the edges.

Her body remained wary. Her senses sharpened.

At the far end of the garden, the wall stood tall—rough, cracked, covered in ivy.

She reached out and touched it for the first time in months.

The stone was cold beneath her fingers.

She used to come here to escape the chaos inside. To sit on the bench by this wall and just… breathe.

It reminded her of the graveyard where her parents were buried. The quiet. The stillness. The strange sense of peace.

It was insane, really—how much comfort a wall could bring.

Especially one built to keep her in.

But her hands stayed pressed to it anyway. Because it was solid. Real.

And for the first time in a long time, so was she.

She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead to the stone, and whispered, “Almost Free.”

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She returned the next night.

And the night after that.

Each time, sitting on the stone bench nestled by the wall, her robe pulled tightly around her.

She didn’t dare go further.

The wall was too tall to climb.

She couldn’t leave without Noah.

Maybe she was waiting for a sign—or a miracle.

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On the fourth night, it came.

She was sitting on the bench, eyes half-closed, when she heard it.

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