A concerned stranger

When the crow left with my note, I shook my head and sighed.

What was I even thinking?

I felt ridiculous for replying. I knew it had to be a prank. Maybe something Esther and the other girls had cooked up, trying to lure me into escaping so they could blame me later.

And if it wasn't a prank… then it could be something worse.

A trap.

I couldn't just rely on some anonymous person's help. Not here. Not in this pack.

No one offered kindness without wanting something in return, not after what happened to my family. I didn't think anyone in this place truly cared for what was best for me, unless it served them somehow.

I wasn't going to leave like that. Not without even knowing who I was gambling with.

When I woke the next morning, I opened the window to breathe in the fresh air. The breeze carried the scent of pine and damp soil, a reminder that the world kept moving even when I couldn't.

A knock came not long after.

I stood and smoothed my dress, expecting Stella. She always came around this time with a gentle smile and something warm to eat.

But when the door opened, it wasn't her.

"Here's your breakfast," the maid said curtly, stepping in without ceremony.

She placed the tray down on the bedside table, her movements sharp and practiced. I didn't know her name. Her face was vaguely familiar, someone I might've seen in the halls.

"Where is Stella?" I asked, surprised. "Why isn't she here?"

"She has something else to take care of. But she'll be with you by lunch," the maid answered, already halfway to the door. She didn't look back.

I looked at the tray. Just the usual hot meal. Some broth, a bit of rice, a small piece of bread and fruit. Nothing unusual.

I hadn't eaten much yesterday, and finally, hunger stirred in my stomach. I sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the spoon.

I was about to bring it to my lips when something black streaked past the edge of my vision.

The crow.

It burst through the open window in a flurry of wings and wind, and before I could react, it flew directly over me, knocking the spoon out of my hand. It clattered to the floor.

"What are you doing, birdie?" I gasped, heart jumping.

The crow landed on the table, just beside my tray, and began shaking its head vigorously.

I haven't seen a bird acting like this before, and I wasn't really fond of birds to find more information about them. But I did heard that some had a tendency to be aggressive.

I blinked at it, confused. "Are you unwell?"

I crouched closer, checking for a wound, but its feathers were smooth, unbroken, unmarred. Nothing looked wrong.

"If you want some nuts, I don't have any today," I murmured, unsure why I was even talking to it. "But… you can share my food, if that's what you're after."

That's when I noticed the thin piece of paper tied to its leg.

A note again.

I hesitated, then untied it with slow fingers. The memory of last night returned, the part of me that wrote back even though I told myself not to care.

I unrolled the paper.

'I'm a concerned stranger,' it said, answering my question last night.

My lips curled up without humor.

Of course the person wouldn't tell me anything personal. Why would they? It was probably nothing serious to begin with. Some stupid joke. A twisted game.

I crumpled the paper in my hand and let it fall to the floor. Useless.

Then I reached for the glass of fruit juice and took a deep gulp, letting the cold sweetness slide down my throat.

The crow flapped its wings sharply and let out a loud caw, almost like a shriek. It started flying in erratic circles above the table, its feathers rustling wildly, its voice growing louder.

"What is wrong with you?" I snapped, frowning at it.

But it didn't stop.

It circled once more, then dropped low, trying to nudge the glass I had just drunk from. Its talons tapped the rim.

I shook my head and grabbed it with both hands before it could knock anything over.

"You're getting too comfortable," I muttered, walking toward the window. "Go fly somewhere else."

I pushed the bird out gently and shut the window firmly behind it. It flapped its wings furiously, still hovering outside, pecking once against the glass as if trying to stop me.

I sighed and turned back to the tray. My stomach was already growling.

I picked up my spoon again and started eating. The soup was warm and comforting, just what I needed after yesterday.

A few minutes passed. I was halfway through the bowl when something shifted inside me.

I paused.

My chest felt... tight.

I tried to take a deep breath, but it caught halfway. I blinked, confused. My fingers loosened around the spoon. It clinked quietly into the bowl.

Another breath, shallow. My throat felt dry, like it was narrowing.

I pressed a hand to my chest.

The tightness grew. Like invisible fingers curling around my lungs, squeezing them shut.

A slow panic began to bloom beneath my skin.

I stood too fast, and the room spun. My knees buckled, and I had to grab the edge of the bed to keep from falling.

My heart was racing. Not from fear, but from something else. Something strange.

My mouth was dry, my vision starting to pulse at the edges. My limbs felt heavy. Numb.

"Wha—" I tried to speak, but the word broke halfway through my throat.

A sharp pain twisted in my gut. I doubled over, clutching my stomach, struggling to stay upright.

The windows swam in my sight. The walls curved. My breaths were no longer breaths, they were gasps, ragged and shallow, like I was underwater.

And then everything tilted.

I dropped to my knees. My cheek hit the cold stone floor.

The tray clattered beside me, food spilling everywhere, but I couldn't even flinch.

My fingers twitched once. My lips parted. No sound came out.

The last thing I saw before the dark took me was the crow, still tapping against the window glass, its wings frantic.

Then…

Nothing.