Chapter 129

Maeve's POV

I sat on the edge of the mattress, my hands white-knuckled as I gripped Aunt Clara’s shoulders.

I shook her—gentle at first, a soft nudge as if she were merely oversleeping, but then the movement desolved into a more desperate nudge that made the bedframe groan against the floor.

"Auntie? Auntie, wake up. The soup is getting cold. You said you were hungry, remember?"

My voice sounded