Chapter 62: The Shadow of Silent Grief, I
We should've known something was wrong with the sky.
It had been still all evening.
The air, too clean. The light, too soft. The silence—it wasn't peace. It was staged.
Konrad hadn't stirred. We'd laid him gently beneath the remnants of a wooden awning near an abandoned chapel, wrapped in two coats and silence. Clara hadn't moved from his side. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. Her hands rested in her lap like folded paper, face unreadable.
Erich stood near the tree line, arms crossed. His coat fluttered in the still air, though no wind moved.
"I don't like this," he muttered.
I didn't answer.
He turned to me. "Something's off."
"We haven't been seen," I assured. "We haven't been followed. It's quiet."
"Too quiet." He added.
I looked up.