Hazel’s POV

The Beta quarters don’t smell like Vincent anymore.

They smell like smoke, lye soap, and moonvine. We burned his bed. Scrubbed his walls. Ripped down the black curtains he used to hide the sun.

“Line up,” I tell Rook and Miri. “Tallest to shortest.”

Rook is twelve. Miri is sixteen. Eda stands behind them, Galen’s hand on her shoulder. The rest ; Pike, Kira, Jax, the twins from Silver Creek, the sisters from High Pine all watch.

“Today,” I say, “you stop being what Vincent made you.”

I set three bowls on the table. Willow bark. Moonvine. Honey.

“First rule of healing,” I say. “You save before you...