Page 59 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

"You didn't think about that at all."

"I didn't need to."

The calmness in his voice shocks me. "The entire town wants me gone."

Finn steps closer. "I don't."

I look away. The answer hurts more than I expected, because I want to believe him.

He refuses to let me hide behind the ocean. "Look at me."

His voice softens, and I do, eventually. His gaze meets mine immediately—steady, certain, real.

"You aren't facing this alone."

Something inside my chest tightens. Not because of the bond. Because he means it. Every word, every promise, every stubborn, infuriating word.

I glance down at the cloak, then back at him. The person responsible wants me isolated, afraid, ready to run. Since Lisa arrived at the lighthouse, the urge begins to fade. Not completely. Enough.

I draw a slow breath. "Then we keep going."

A slow smile appears. Not playful but determined.

"Exactly."

The wind catches the cloak. The waves continue crashing against the shore. And standing beside Finn, I realize leaving Moonhaven would solve nothing.

The truth is still here. And so are we.

22

FINN

The council chamber is already half full when Row and I arrive. That alone irritates me. Not because they're early. Because they always manage to look comfortable while the rest of Moonhaven burns around them.

The long table dominates the center of the room. Council heads occupy their usual seats. Merchants, harbor representatives, landowners—people whose opinions somehow become policy.

Row drops into the seat beside me. "You look like you're preparing for a fight."

"I'm attending a meeting." I reply.

I almost smile. The mood inside the chamber is too heavy for that.

Aldric sits near the head of the table, speaking quietly with another council member. Gideon stands near the window reviewing several documents. Unlike most of the room, he actually looks tired. The sight earns a little respect. At least somebody is losing sleep over what's happening.

The meeting begins shortly afterward. For a while, the discussion remains ordinary—dock repairs, trade delays, market expansion, a proposal for a secondary merchant port on the northern side of town. The kind of conversation that normally puts me to sleep. Today nobody seems interested. The room keeps circling back to the same subject. The storms. The missing vessels. The fear spreading through Moonhaven.

Eventually one council member pushes away a stack of papers. "Enough."

The room quiets. The man folds his arms. "We keep discussing markets while people are dying."

Several heads nod. The councilman continues. "The solution is obvious."

I already know where this is going. So does Gideon, judging by his expression—just as thrilled about it as I am.

The councilman glances around the room. "How much longer are we going to tolerate this danger?"

There it is. The room shifts immediately. People sit straighter. Some avoid eye contact. Others look relieved. Finally, they have their target. A solution. A villain. The councilman doesn't bother saying Reina's name. He doesn't need to. Everyone knows.