Luna stared out the window with eyes full of longing, the glass cool against her forehead. Her helplessness was becoming much more prominent than she could ever imagine, settling in her chest like a heavy stone she couldn't shift no matter how deeply she breathed. Each breath felt shallow, caught halfway, as if the air itself refused to give her relief. Her mind went to Aunt Marion and Belle, and she hoped they had reached home safely and were doing fine. The thought of them brought a sharp ache behind her eyes, a mixture of worry and guilt that twisted uncomfortably in her gut. Had she been too quiet in the carriage? Had Belle noticed how pale Aunt Marion had looked?
