He blinked.
Had he dreamed it?
No, it seemed too real, and yet…
His hands went to his throat where the harpy had been … the place felt sore and he was sure it was red.
He breathed in and calmed himself. He looked on the floor and saw his harpy lying next to his feet. He picked it up and put it back in his sleeve.
His heartbeat returned to eighty-five and he composed himself. He wondered what she had been and where she came from. Then he realised he really would rather not know. He hoped he would never have to cross paths with her again.
He turned around and looked out the window. He thought he saw a dark figure run swiftly into the trees and disappear. He closed the curtain and turned around. Tomorrow he would leave for Washington in search of the only thing dear to him.
He vowed never to return to this place as long as he lived … or even after.