ZARA'S POV
I sat on my bed by the window, and the raindrops falling against the panes coursed down in rivulets without sound-a reflection of the void inside my soul. There lay my son, sleeping still peacefully on the bed, curled up into a small bundle, his steady breathing the only sound in my room. For an instant, at the sight of him, all was well again, but pretty soon my reality confronted me.
A knock shattered the fragile silence.
"Ms Zara," Madam Tess's voice was indistinct from the other side. There was something odd in her tone, like hesitation, even fear.
Slowly, I rose, quickening at the pulse. Opening the door, I found her standing there, clutching a folded piece of paper in her shaking hands.
"What is it?" I asked, a knot already forming in my stomach.
It's. It's a message," she breathed over her shoulder, eyes wide in that wild, frantic way. "From jacob."