Penelope awoke on another apparent morning, still with no August to share her room. Zagan hadn't brought up the fact that she was missing, and Penelope was afraid to bring it up herself. Not that she had much of a chance. She only saw him a few times.
But with each day that passed with Penelope awaking and eating and staring blankly out the window into the dark forest and then sleeping again, her anxiety was growing. She would pace, wondering if August had been killed. Why else would there be no news of her and no return?
"I should have never let her leave," she groaned to herself, imagining how she could have convinced her to stay—how she could have persuaded her that it was a bad idea to go exploring the castle, which had obviously turned into exploring the entire island if August were even still alive to do it.
"Would he even tell me if she were dead?" She spoke aloud. It was a habit now with no one else to talk to and nothing else to occupy her time.
