Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll never lose hope, he’d whispered to her in this very spot, kneeling before the goldenroot. Your brother and sister, your mother—his voice had cracked then—they will come for you, one day. Don’t you mean us, Papa? They’ll come for us? Faran had reached out and brushed his fingers along her cheekbone. Of course, sweetheart. That’s what I meant.
