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Mariah raises her hand. “I personally think we should continue discussing it.”

“Traitor.”

Something suddenly steps out of the corn.

Nobody speaks.

The woman is wearing a white dress… or what’s left of it. The fabric is brown from age. Dirt covers her bare feet with her hair covering her face as her head hangs forward. A red ribbon circles her wrist.

Sage stops breathing. “Is that…” She trails off.

“Yes.” Malakai answers.

Ezra draws his knife as the woman lifts her head. Her mouth is stitched shut.

Sage makes a small sound and I step in front of her. The woman’s eyes find me.

Recognition… then hatred.

That’s fair. I know this one.

“Hello Prudence.”

Sage’s hand grabs the back of my shirt. “You know her?”

“Knew.”

“When?”

“1823.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Prudence tilts her head and her neck cracks… once–twice…. then runs at us–fast… very fucking fast.

I meet her halfway and she slams into me. We hit the ground and her fingers immediately go for my eyes. “Still angry, then?”

She screams through the stitches and I grab her wrists. She snaps her teeth at my face despite the thread holding her mouth shut.

“That’s fair.”

“RHETT!” Ezra yells as he drives his knife through her shoulder.

She convulses as black liquid spills from the wound.

Not blood.

Before I can make sense of what I’m seeing, her body arches violently and roots tear through her back.

“Fuck!” I roll away as Malakai shouts something I don’t hear.

One root wraps around my ankle and I cut it while another lashes toward Sage–she ducks.

Good girl.

The thought comes before I can stop it while something hot moves through me.

Not now.