Page 40 of Mate Night Snack
Miriam met him in the front hallway with her usual calm and her hands dusted in flour.
“She’s not here,” she said before he even asked.
He didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Where?”
“She didn’t say. Looked… tight around the mouth, though. The kind of look folks get when they’re tired of holding themselves together.”
His jaw tightened. “When?”
“Not long ago.”
He gave a sharp nod and turned, heart starting to pick up pace.
He didn’t like this. Not one bit.
She had a habit of wandering when she needed space and it usually meant trouble.
He inhaled through his nose. Her scent hit him faint, braided with bergamot and damp cotton. The trail curved around the inn, then split along the main road, heavier where her steps dragged. He followed.
Down Hollow Oak’s side street, through the back alleys between theGriddle & Grindand theSilver Fang.The air got cooler here, where the trees leaned close and the town forgot to be friendly.
He found her behind the tavern, half-curled on the stacked woodpile.
Katniss had her arms wrapped tight around her middle, knees drawn up, hair falling in tangled waves over her face. Her shoulders trembled.
Not shaking. Sobbing. The kind of quiet, breathless crying people did when they didn’t want anyone to see them fall apart.
He didn’t make a sound. Just walked over and crouched low beside her.
She didn’t look up. But her hand clenched like she felt him near.
He spoke low. Even. “Talk to me.”
She exhaled shakily. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“You are.”
“I shouldn’t stillbe here,” she said again, voice cracking on the end.
Emmett’s hands stayed where she could see them, open and steady, his presence quiet but solid as the ground under her.
Her chin tucked down as she wiped at her cheeks with the edge of her sleeve. “I had another vision,” she whispered. “Worse this time. Ashwin. The town square. He said my name like he already owned it.”
Emmett didn’t speak, but his jaw clenched hard enough to ache.
She went on.
“I woke up and the charm was scorched. Just like the girls. Just like Mabel. Like it doesn’t matter what I do, the same pattern’s playing out again.”
She finally looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot and bright, her lips parted just enough to show how hard she was breathing.
“I’ve been recording everything. Taking notes. But pieces keep disappearing. Pages smudge. Files don’t save. It’s like the town’s fighting back. Like something out there wants megone.” She closed her eyes, voice raw now. “Maybe I’m already in too deep.”
He moved closer, slow enough she could stop him.
She didn’t.
“You’re not alone in this,” he said, voice low and grounded.
