She’s a bit reserved with strangers, but once she’s comfortable around you, she’s affectionate and expressive, full of warmth and jokes and smoky laughter. Or, she was. That was how I knew something was very wrong. I came home, and it was like the sun had slipped behind a thick cloud, like every songbird within miles had left the trees. Freya was quiet. Very, very quiet. I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard her sing in the shower or hum softly as she went through the mail. Then I glanced down at my feet. I saw a bag packed and a ticket with my name on it. That’s when I knew
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