For the next day or two, Waverly was unable to shake the image of Pietro from her mind. Everywhere she went, she thought of him standing in the corner, soaking wet, with unprecedented fear making up his distorted features.
She wanted to warn Sawyer and tell him everything she could, but with all that had been happening lately, along with her illness and potential hallucinations, she wasn’t sure he would entirely believe her. H*ll, she wasn’t even sure she believed herself—but there was no way she could take that risk. What if he was truly in some sort of danger? She had to find some way to make him trust her: the only problem was, how?
Waverly walked hand in hand with Sawyer down the path towards town: half for strength support, and half for comfort. She observed the trees which were changing from green to red and yellow as the start of fall began to kick in. Her loose, long sleeved maroon shirt draped down her torso, absolutely covering any hint of a bump.