Chapter 8 Bruises and Bread

Rain wandered into the narrow path behind the market, her bare feet grazing over scattered,gravel and broken glass. Her toes had toughened with time, but pain still found its way in. Today, it came in sharp jabs-a reminder that she was still alive. The world, however, offered no acknowledgment. It spun on without her.

The smell of roasted peanuts from the vendor stand up the street tangled with smoke from a nearby exhaust pipe. Her stomach clenched. She hadn't eaten since yesterday. The woman at the soup stall had thrown dishwater in her direction when she tried begging for a spoonful. That had been the last attempt for the day. Now, she just watched.

A small boy toddled past her, licking sugar off a lollipop too big for his hand. His mother followed, purse swinging, scolding him gently for straying. Rain didn't move, just watched the candy glisten in the sun like a jewel. For a moment, she imagined what it would taste like. Sweet. Warm. Safe.

She kept walking.

A rusted bike frame leaned against the corner of an abandoned building. Rain ducked behind it as two boys in uniforms passed by. Their backpacks bulged with books. She didn't want to be seen. Not by anyone. Not like this.

Once the street emptied again, she stepped out and walked toward the square. It was always noisy there, and noise meant people-and sometimes people dropped things.

As she reached the fountain at the center of the plaza, she saw a coin glinting beneath the water. Not much, but enough. She knelt beside the edge, careful not to slip, and reached in. Her hand shook. The water was freezing. She clutched the coin and pulled it out like it was treasure.

From a nearby bench, an old woman narrowed her eyes at her. Rain ignored her gaze. She clutched the coin, whispered a quiet "thank you" to no one in particular, and darted down an alley where no one would follow.

The coin got her half a stale bun. The baker didn't speak-just took it, handed her the bread, and turned away. Rain mumbled another thank you, but her voice was too small to matter.

She ate slowly. Each bite was dry and chewy, but she savored it like a feast. As she ate, her mind drifted to the dream she'd had again the night before.

Fire. Smoke. Screams. A woman calling her name. And then darkness.

The dreams were always the same-haunting and half-formed. They came with a feeling, like she was being pulled somewhere she didn't understand. She shook it off and curled herself near a trash bin, pulling her coat tighter.

Miles away, under the shadow of a forest heavy with mist and time, the council met. The wolves moved with quiet grace across the stone chamber. Moonlight slanted through a gap in the roof, bathing the center of the room in silver.

Rick, the eldest among the council, stood with his arms behind his back, eyes stern. Beside him, Malik leaned against the wall, fingers drumming against his thigh.

"They must be found," Rick said simply. "Mister and Missus Austin have hidden themselves too well. But not well enough."

"The longer they remain out of reach, the more dangerous it becomes," another added, a woman with gray streaks in her hair.

"We've already lost too much time," Malik muttered. "If the wrong hands get to them first-"

"They won't," Rick cut in. "Our squad is already moving through the southern cities. They'll start in the outskirts. They know the signs to look for."

The group nodded.

"It must be quiet. Clean," said the gray-haired woman.

"It will be," Rick promised.

They left it at that. No mention of the child. Not yet. She wasn't the target. Not now.

Back in the city, Rain lay on her side, legs pulled to her chest. She could still hear the noise from the plaza, even here in the alley. It was always there, like the buzz in her head that never stopped. Something gnawed at her gut-a hunger that food couldn't cure.

A shift in the air. Her eyes flew open.

Someone had passed the alley entrance. She was sure of it.

She waited, holding her breath.

Then, nothing. Only the wind.

She exhaled slowly, trying to calm her pounding heart. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe it was just the wind, or a dog.

But she could have sworn someone was there. Watching.

Her instincts screamed, but there was nowhere else to go.

Rain closed her eyes again, and whispered to herself:

"Just one more day. Just one more."

But the city had already begun to shift.