DAMIEN’S POV
Picking weeds and planting seeds was a drag, but Adele was right; it was rewarding to know that people would live because of our hard work.
Adele ran crying into my arms, completely taking me by surprise.
“Let’s have an early lunch,” she sobbed. Her tears soaked into the shoulder of my hoodie, and I squeezed her tightly and rubbed her back.
“Alright,” I said, leading her away. I checked back at where Adele had been and saw several pretty women snickering to themselves.
“Let me guess,” I said, “those witches were giving you trouble.”
Adele nodded her head in my shoulder, and I guided her past the farmlands and to a small spring where there was a flat stone we sat on like a bench.
Adele looked at the calm spring, the lush trees, and then at me and laughed.
“It’s been a while since we came here,” she said.
