One step in, and her whole body felt cold. Two steps in, and her chest seiezed with panic.
One more step. One more step.
Feira was certain that she was going to be sick. She never had issue with passageways or narrow streets, but it was the dark, covered alleys that she avoided like a plauge. It was the nicest alley in a good area of town, but with each step she forced herself to take the harder it became to breathe.
You have to. You have to. Halfway there.
The scar on her back burned. She could hear the muffled screams, and mocking laughter. The walls seemed to close in around her, and Feira clenched her apron in her fists.
Emeleth . . . Valar, just a few more steps.
Her world began to spin, and she was on the brink of passing out when suddenly full daylight hit her. Gasping for air Feira slumped against the side of the building. Seconds passed, and she sunk down to sit on a crate before her knees gave out.
Torrin had said she’d have to face it eventually. He probably intended to be with her, but Feira would not wait any longer. Not with the knowledge that such a simple place could cripple her. It wasn’t much, but it was a step forward, and one that made her feel different somehow. Terrifying, but a good different.
Hot tears poured from her eyes, and she let out a short, triumphant laugh.
“I did it! I actually did it!”