His Betrayal, Her Bloom

centuries, I, Elara, watched the Harrison family. They said an ancestor sa

respect. He even spoke to me, the quiet caretaker, with a gentleness that warmed my ancient

redwoods not as life, but as lumber, or obstacles. Her v

of the Patriarch scratched

ace t

rned to the tree. His face, onc

dabbing her arm. "And dangerous

, stepping forward. "The

r. "Elara, don't be supers

He turned to his fo

he wood was a bite into me. I felt the steel teeth rip th

ned, a sound that

crack, the earth

the scent of raw, bleeding wood filling my senses. My skin tight

on his arm. He looked down

a slight amusement in h

Don't worry. I'll plant a whole

, a sharp, unp

ne, but only a rasp escaped. My connection to the world, to

to reach Mrs. Abigail Harrison, James' s grand

unroom, surrounded by wilting flowers.

voice thin as old paper. I l

n shock at my appearance. "Elara!

word an effort. "He cu

o her mouth. "N

amily... it is broken. The protection I off