Dominic’s voice rose, sharp and echoing. "Hazel! How can you speak to her like that?"

It was the first time Dominic had ever raised his voice at Hazel, and to do it for another woman sent a surge of hot jealousy through her. She didn't back down; instead, she widened her eyes, mimicking the very innocence she loathed in Serafina.

"Did I say something wrong?" Hazel asked, her voice dripping with mock contrition. "I’m so sorry, Dominic. You know me—I’ve always been too blunt for my own good. My mouth runs faster than my brain."

If we’re playing the 'helpless girl' game, Hazel thought, I can play, too.

Dominic choked on his next words. "You shouldn't be apologizing to me. You owe Serafina an apology!"

Hazel offered a thin, razor-sharp smile to the weeping girl. Serafina was truly a vision in her grief—pale, trembling, and devastatingly pretty. It was no wonder she had managed to snatch Evelyn’s fiancé and keep both Ward brothers dancing on her strings.

"Serafina, I am truly, deeply sorry," Hazel said. "If I said anything to embarrass you, it wasn't intentional. It’s just... well, everyone around here already knows the story."

Serafina’s heart hammered against her ribs. She had always carefully curated her reputation as a saint, and now she realized that in her absence, Evelyn had systematically burned that reputation to the ground.

"It’s not like that..." Serafina stammered. "Evelyn and I are sisters in every way that matters. Her fiancé was to be my brother-in-law. I would never dream of—"

"Serafina, save the breath," Hazel interrupted. "If this were all just a big misunderstanding, why would a girl in the prime of her life flee the city to labor in these fields? You tell me."

Serafina gritted her teeth. She saw Hazel for what she was: a rival fighting for Dominic’s attention. "Evelyn and I have had a falling out," she said, her face shifting from grief to a look of quiet, noble strength. "I am here to make things right."

The display of "fortitude" worked perfectly on the two brothers.

"I believe you," Dominic murmured, his voice softening.

"I believe you too, Serafina," Caleb chimed in, eager to please.

Hazel’s expression went cold. She finally understood why Evelyn had been so desperate to cut ties with these two fools.

While Serafina entrenched herself at the dormitory, Evelyn was already deep in the timberland. Before they had set out, Tess had insisted Evelyn tie her sleeves and pant legs tight with twine.

The woods were home to "grass-crawlers"—ticks. When hungry, they were flat and inconspicuous; once they bit, they swelled into bloated, blood-filled pebbles. They were relentless, their bites could cause raging fevers, and if you weren't careful, they’d crawl right into your ear canal. Ever since hearing that, Evelyn had taken to sleeping with cotton balls in her ears.

The mountain air was a tonic—crisp, cool, and smelling of damp earth and pine needles.

Tess walked with her for a while, teaching her to distinguish edible fungi from the poisonous varieties, before they eventually drifted apart to cover more ground. "Stay on the perimeter," Tess warned. "Don't go deep."

Evelyn nodded, but the forest had a way of pulling one in. She found clusters of wood-ear mushrooms and wild ferns, then hit a streak of luck with a dead tree covered in honey mushrooms.

Then she saw them: pine mushrooms, nestled near the roots of an old evergreen. They were a delicacy—tender, savory, and worth their weight in silver. Her basket was soon overflowing, and she began surreptitiously moving her haul into her private Space.

She wasn't sure if it was the rich northern soil or the luck of her second life, but she was finding more in an hour than she used to find in an entire day. Driven by the thrill of the hunt, she followed the trail of mushrooms deeper into the woods until the light began to fail, swallowed by the thick canopy.

Realizing she had gone too far, Evelyn turned to leave. Suddenly, a grey blur flashed through the undergrowth.

A rabbit. A fat, succulent rabbit.

Meat, she thought.

She stowed her basket in the Space to free her hands and began the stalk. But she was overeager. A twig snapped under her boot, and the rabbit bolted. It stopped ten feet away, looking back at her with what Evelyn could only describe as pure, unadulterated contempt.

Evelyn exhaled. "Fine. You win."

She turned to head back, fearing she might stumble upon a boar if she lingered. As if summoned by her thoughts, a four-hundred-pound black boar stepped out from behind a thicket, its small, red eyes locking onto hers.

Evelyn froze. Do the animals in the North take tactical training? she wondered. It had practically set an ambush.

The boar lowered its head and charged. In a heartbeat, Evelyn vanished into her Space.

She waited, her heart hammering, before venturing back out. To her horror, the boar was still there, circling the spot where she had disappeared. It lunged again.

Evelyn ducked back into the Space. This time, she heard a sickening thud—the sound of heavy bone meeting solid wood.

Ten minutes later, she peeked out again. The beast lay slumped against a massive oak, having knocked itself unconscious in its blind rage.

Evelyn wasn't about to let this windfall go. She crept forward, confirmed it wasn't faking, and used her kitchen knife to finish the job. With a grunt of effort, she heaved the massive carcass into her Space. The scent of blood would bring predators soon; she had to move.

But in her haste, her luck ran out. Her foot caught a hidden root, and she went down hard.

A fall in the wilderness is never a small thing. Sharp thorns shredded her cheek, and her palms were raw from the jagged stones. She sat on the damp earth, wincing as she used a splash of Spirit Spring water to wash the grit from her bloody knees.

As she cleaned herself, her eyes caught something in the brush. A cluster of bright red berries atop a spindly green stalk.

Her breath hitched. She crawled closer, ignoring the sting of her wounds. She began to dig, her movements frantic yet precise. Using her knife as a trowel, she unearthed a massive, pristine root. It was a wild ginseng—well over a pound, with a shape so perfect it could only be a century-old King of Ginseng.

"Evelyn!"

"Evelyn! Where are you?"

The distant shouts broke her trance. She quickly wrapped the ginseng in moss, stowed it in her Space, grabbed her "decoy" basket, and scrambled down the slope.

Tess looked sick with relief when Evelyn emerged from the trees. "I thought a bear got you!"

"You don't listen, do you?" Meda snapped, her face twisted in a scowl. "We told you not to go deep. If you get lost, we're the ones who have to answer for it."

Meda had been Tess’s closest friend before Evelyn arrived, and the shift in loyalty was making her bitter.

"She’s back, isn't she? Let it go," Tess said, stepping between them.

Evelyn took a breath, letting the adrenaline subside. "I’m sorry. You’re right. I got distracted. It won't happen again."

Tess nodded, impressed by Evelyn’s easy admission of guilt. There was a quiet dignity in her that the other city girls lacked.