Ezren stepped forward and took Foster’s hand in hers, her expression steady as she kneaded the cramping muscles with practiced movements. “We have the ability, Foster, and we’re in the right place at the right time.” He snorted, but a smile curved his lips. “Then why do I feel like we’re in the wrong place at the wrong time?” She offered a bittersweet grin. “Either way, with the opportunity upon us, we can’t just turn our backs on Belethea.” Her expression grew earnest, and she squeezed his hands. “On Casolla.”
