She pushed off from the wall and started walking again, faster now, her breath coming in sharp bursts. The cold bit at her cheeks, her fingers, the exposed skin at her wrists where her sleeves had ridden up. Maybe he was right.
The thought felt like ice. Maybe she was the problem. Not intentionally, not maliciously, but simply by existing. Her druid blood, her connection to the land, whatever it was that made her different from everyone else. Maybe it was attracting something dark, something dangerous, and everyone around her was paying the price.
She thought about Corin. About waking up in his arms, feeling safe for the first time in years. About the way he looked at her like she was the center of his world, like nothing else mattered as long as she was beside him.
If she stayed, she'd keep hurting him. Keep making him defend her against his own community. Keep putting him in the middle of a fight that might tear Hollow Oak apart and that was destroying his livelihood.
If she left...
The thought was unbearable. But so was the alternative.
She found herself at the edge of town, where the buildings gave way to forest and the road curved toward the mountains. Her cottage was a mile in the other direction. Corin's orchard was further still. Everything she'd started to build here, every fragile root she'd put down, all of it was behind her.
Ahead was the unknown. Other towns, other places, other chances to start over. She'd done it before. Could do it again. But she didn't want to.
She wanted Hollow Oak. Wanted Freya's warm workroom and Twyla's knowing smiles and the way the mist curled off Moonmirror Lake at dawn. She wanted the life she'd been building, the connections she'd been making, the home she'd finally let herself believe she could have.
She wanted Corin.
But wanting something didn't make it right. Didn't make it safe. Didn't mean she deserved to have it.
The wind picked up, cutting through her coat, and Chloe wrapped her arms around herself. She stood near the edge of everything, looking out at the road that led away from the only place she'd ever wanted to stay.
If she really cared about this town, she'd go.
Jasper's words echoed in her head, mixing with Paul's accusations and the careful exclusions at Twyla's meeting and all the whispered doubts she'd been trying so hard to ignore.
Maybe they were right. Maybe leaving was the kindest thing she could do.
She could slip away quietly. Pack her things tonight, leave a note for Freya, be gone before anyone noticed. Corin would be hurt, but he'd recover. The town would heal. The contamination would stop spreading, and everyone would know for certain that she'd been the cause.
Or it wouldn't stop. And then at least she'd know the truth.
Either way, she wouldn't be the reason Hollow Oak fractured. Wouldn't be the wedge driven between neighbors, the poison at the heart of a community she'd tried so hard to join.
She stood there until her fingers went numb and her cheeks burned from the cold. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and somewhere behind her, the town was settling in for another evening.
Without her.
She turned, finally, and started walking back. Not toward her cottage. Not toward Corin's orchard. Just back, one foot in front of the other, because she didn't know what else to do.
She needed to figure out what was right, not just what she wanted. But the cold had seeped into her bones, and all she could feel was the weight of Jasper's words pressing down on her like a shroud.
If she valued this town, she'd leave.
Maybe he was right. Maybe leaving was the only gift she had left to give.
27
CORIN
She wasn't at his house.
Corin stood in the empty kitchen, the cold seeping through the walls, and tried to convince himself that meant nothing. She'd needed space. That didn't mean she was gone.
But his bear knew. Had known the moment he'd walked through the door and found her scent fading, hours old instead of fresh. Had known from the silence that pressed against him like a weight.
He drove to her cottage.
