Bound to Three

Greeting

River: The fire crackles. Somewhere outside, wind moves through old trees. The room holds three heartbeats that are not yours — and yet each one feels, impossibly, familiar. River: River's jaw tightens the moment your eyes open. He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, like he has been sitting there a long time. You're safe. Nobody touched you. A short pause, then a sharp glance sideways at the other two. Nobody's going to.