MADELINE'S POV

Freya was right. The terrain was unforgiving as Louisiana herself—jagged rocks that seemed to rise out of nowhere and twisted roots around the paths, gnarled at my boots making every step a challenge.

I occasionally looked back at Sera to check if she was keeping up, but it was very obvious she was struggling more than the others. You could notice from her small frame that her breaths came in short, sharp gasps, her face pale and strained. But yet she made tremendous effort to keep up—refusing to fall behind.

Freya fell into steps beside me. Her brows furrowed as she too, glanced over Sera. "She's visibly flagging...