Page 41 of She Walks with Broken Things

Or put me exactly where he wanted me.

Maybe I already was.

Maybe it’d started the moment I picked up the book.

ALARIC

Thud.

The door closed harder than necessary and the sound carried.

It shouldn’t have.

I didn’t slow. Didn’t adjust my pace as I crossed the hall. The distance to the study was the same as it’d always been. The steps familiar. Measured.

Still—

Something was wrong.

My shoulder smacked the frame on the turn. A small impact. Glancing. Not enough to matter.

I stopped anyway.

Not because of the contact. But because it was new. My hand lifted, adjusting the cuff at my wrist. Straightening what wasn’t out of place. The motion precise. Practiced. Correct.

I stepped inside and reached out. Fingers finding my things exact. The room was as I’d left it. The blade lay where it belonged. The cloth folded beside it. The desk untouched. Order held. It always did.

I picked up the cloth. Drew it alongside the edge of the blade.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

It didn’t require it. The edge already clean. The surface unmarked. The line exact. I should go to the greenhouse. I should go and see…