Every time I heard someone rattle the gate, my head snapped up to see if Sevas might be standing there, and both despair and relief curled in my belly when he was not. In my mind, I stretched out the short conversation we’d had in Rose’s storeroom into hours, like the last small bit of dough under a rolling pin, until it was so thin that it was translucent when you held it up to the light. I’d committed every single detail to memory: the shadow of his lashes on his cheekbone, his smirk and the arch of his brow, and of course the way he’d said I think it would make me very happy to see your
...more
