"Do you have anything to feed him, Sage?" August whispered, and Sage dug into his pockets before shaking his head.
"I guess we'll have to start carrying around little snacks for the crows if we want a good picture, huh?" she smiled down at him. "Okay, let's head back."
As they turned back toward the direction of the market, August heard raised voices deeper in the forest. The vicious intensity of the male's voice made her freeze. It was as if her body bore a physical recognition of that level of anger from her past, and the trauma caught hold of her—stealing her breath.
This wasn't just any argument she was overhearing. That male was abusive. He was going to hurt whoever was on the receiving end.
Before she knew it, August was following the voices, her heart thudding in her ears as the man's voice grew louder. Images of Alan standing over her mother flashed through her mind, and her feet moved faster to find the source of the anger before it was too late.
