Night had fallen by the time we returned to the village. The report had already been sent to command: Eiswacht’s hideout uncovered in the shadow of the crater, the battalion that had infiltrated, and the strange anomaly that had hidden it all. Now, the villagers could rest knowing someone would investigate further. We, instead, stayed behind to help.

  Caelyn moved among the people with quiet calm, teaching them how to reinforce makeshift walls, her sadness turning into relief. Nysha, though trembling, drew close to the children, and with a whisper she dispelled the shadows clinging to their hearts. Reia, luminous even in her exhaustion, organized everyone as if every word of hers were a prayer. I did what I could: carried stones, built shelters, listened to those who needed to speak.

  And when the work slowed, leaving only embers glowing in the fire pits, Reia and I sat on a crumbled wall, our legs dangling, the cold wind brushing against our faces.

  She rested her spear across her lap, eyes fixed on the sky. The reflection of the flames danced across her white hair.

  —Don’t you want to rest too? —I asked, breaking the silence.

  Reia smiled softly, but didn’t take her eyes from the stars.

  —I will soon. But first… I want to tell you something. About them.

  I turned toward her, a little confused.

  —Them? —I repeated quietly.

  —Caelyn. Nysha. Virelle —she said gently, her eyes now meeting mine—. They are more than my companions. More than soldiers. They are… my sisters. Each of them is a miracle forged in the midst of darkness.

  I swallowed, hesitant.

  —Wouldn’t they mind… you telling me their stories without them here? —I asked.

  Reia shook her head, her smile calm but certain.

  —No, Lyss. Speaking of what they’ve endured isn’t betrayal… it’s recognition. I want you to know them as I do.

  Caelyn wasn’t far, her silhouette framed against the embers as she laid blankets over the elders. Her serenity seemed to wrap around everything. Nysha, in contrast, stayed apart, hugging her knees, her gaze fixed on the fire as though afraid it might go out.

  —Caelyn… —Reia began, her voice carrying a gentle sadness—. She grew up in a perfect home… or so it seemed. Always had to smile, even when she wanted to cry. Her family showed her off like a trophy, but they never truly saw her. And when the sadness grew so heavy it filled every room, her magic awakened. The mist, the rain… they’re her way of existing without breaking.

  I glanced at Caelyn, and for a moment I could feel her melancholy like a quiet river.

  —Nysha… —Reia went on, her tone more solemn—. She was locked away for days, alone, with nothing but her fears. There, her mind betrayed her, and the monsters that didn’t exist began to take form. Her magic didn’t save her: it chained her to those shadows. Even now, every time she fights, she battles them… and herself.

  Nysha’s shoulders trembled faintly, as if she sensed someone was speaking of her.

  —And Virelle? —I dared to ask in a whisper.

  Reia closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply.

  —Virelle was born into a family where anger was forbidden. Only smiles were allowed. She bottled up her rage so long she nearly believed herself a monster for feeling it. Her magic awakened the day she could no longer pretend. But she still fears her own strength. Because she knows that if she lets her fury consume her, she might be lost forever.

  I fell silent. Every word sat in my chest like a weight. They weren’t just companions. They were open wounds that had somehow learned to keep breathing.

  Reia let the silence linger between us for a moment. The night wind stirred the loose strands of her hair, and the glow of the embers barely lit the outline of her face.

  —And you? —I asked without realizing, almost in a whisper—. How did you awaken… your hope?

  Her lips curved into a small smile, as if she had been waiting for that question.

  —I… grew up in a city occupied by Eiswacht. —Her voice was low, but steady—. There, people learned to live like shadows. We were treated as if we had no voice, as if there was no future.

  Her gaze drifted to the stars, and for an instant she seemed to return to that place.

  —I was fifteen when everything collapsed. The soldiers had surrounded us, and the streets were so empty it felt like the world had already ended. —Her voice trembled just slightly—. I felt it was all over… until I heard my father.

  She leaned forward, as if searching for the exact words in the fire.

  —He told me: “Reia, as long as you’re still breathing, it isn’t lost.”

  A deep silence settled around us. I couldn’t breathe.

  —I didn’t believe it because I was brave —she continued, with a sad yet radiant smile—. I believed it because I couldn’t accept that fear was the only thing left. And that night… the light burst from me. Like a sun that had never risen. I tore down the walls with my magic, and freed my people.

  Her blue eyes found mine, shining like mirrors of the embers.

  —Since then, hope isn’t just my emotion, Lyss. It’s… my duty. I can’t let it go, not even when it weighs on me.

  I swallowed hard. It wasn’t pity she conveyed, but a strength so intimate it hurt.

  Reia sighed, then looked straight at me.

  —Do you understand now why you are here, in Lumina Umbrae? —she said softly—. It’s not just because of your strength, or your fury. It’s because I’ve seen what hope can do with the emotions everyone fears. What it can build… when it refuses to die.

  I stayed silent, my heart pounding in my chest.

  —But… I already have a squad. —My voice was barely a thread—. I already have… my place.

  —I know —she replied, her smile calm but with a melancholic gleam in her eyes—. I’m not asking you to leave it. Or to betray what you love. Only… to know that, for me, there will always be a place for you here. Because hope isn’t something imposed. It’s only offered.

  We stayed like that, sitting among the ruins, the fire flickering faintly and the murmur of the night wrapping around us. And though everything was still uncertain, I felt that hope wasn’t just a word. It was… the way Reia looked at all of us. Even at me.

  The fire had almost burned out, and once it did, Reia and I stood to check if Caelyn and Nysha had finished their last tasks. When we saw they had, we all returned to the bunker. The door closed behind us with a dull thud, and silence filled the room. It wasn’t a peaceful silence… it was heavy, as if every shadow in the place was breathing with us.

  Reia ran a hand over her injured shoulder, trying to mask the gesture, but I saw the tension in her jaw. That bullet was still burning her. I felt it too: a dull sting in my side where the projectile had grazed me, a constant reminder that Eiswacht did not fight fair.

  —Caelyn and I will keep watch a while longer —Reia murmured softly, though her voice was thinner than usual. She gave me a warm gesture before stepping back outside, her spear strapped across her back.

  I collapsed onto one of the makeshift mattresses, trying to convince my body that rest was stronger than the adrenaline still running through me. I closed my eyes… and opened them almost immediately when I felt a slight tug on my blanket.

  Nysha was there, lit only by the dying embers. Her wide eyes blinked with a timidity I had never seen in battle. She hugged herself, small and uncertain.

  —Can I…? —she whispered, her voice no louder than another whisper inside the first—. Can I sleep with you tonight?

  I sat up a little, confused.

  —Why…? —I asked, more curious than refusing.

  Nysha lowered her gaze, her fingers playing with a loose strand of hair.

  —It’s… strange, but… —she swallowed—. When I’m afraid, the warmth of your magic… it reminds me a little of Virelle’s. Not as strong… but close. And… it helps me. It makes me feel… that I’m not alone.

  I hadn’t expected such tenderness, or such trust. Slowly, I nodded.

  —Of course. Come here.

  She slipped under the blanket carefully, light as a sigh. For a moment, she trembled… but then she exhaled and settled against my side. I could feel her breathing, uneven but calmer.

  —Thank you… —she murmured.

  —You don’t have to thank me —I whispered, not hugging her, but letting my presence be the answer.

  The silence wrapped around us again, though it was no longer as heavy. I listened to her steadying breaths, and thought of all those stories Reia had told me, of how each of them had found their own way to survive. Even me… though I still didn’t understand why my mother had locked me away after I turned fourteen. That memory lingered in my mind, incomplete yet burning, like a hot brand against my skin. What had changed that day, that I could no longer leave the house? What had they seen in me that I couldn’t see in myself?

  The sting in my side throbbed with the question. The scar I carried was the same one born from that explosion… but I still couldn’t fit all the pieces together.

  The night didn’t grow any warmer. The uncertainty didn’t grow any lighter. But when Nysha fell asleep, breathing calmly beside me, I realized that sometimes… the only thing we need to keep going is a heartbeat closer than our own.

  And with that thought, I let sleep find me too, even as the past still burned inside me like a secret without an answer.

  I woke up to a warm whisper and a light weight pressed against my side. Nysha was still there, clinging to me as if sleep had, for a while, erased the fear that always haunted her. Her breathing was slow, deep, and the warmth of her body reminded me of how little I had truly rested these past days. I didn’t mind; after hearing her story, after seeing her tremble the way she did, it felt only right that she found this refuge, even if only for a night.

  I shifted slightly, and a sharp pain ran through my side. The graze from that cursed bullet—one forged with anti-magic—still burned beneath my skin as if it were trying to scorch me from within. I pulled the blanket back and saw the makeshift bandage still in place, but the sensation wouldn’t fade. A few steps away, Reia was already awake, seated by her bed. Her spear rested across her lap, and her gentle smile barely concealed the weariness I recognized in her eyes.

  —Thank you —she murmured softly, nodding toward Nysha—. She rarely manages to sleep like this. You gave her a rest she almost never finds.

  I nodded, without needing words. My gaze lingered on Reia for another moment, and that was when I noticed the faint tremor in her hand as it brushed against the bandage on her shoulder. Her wound was still alive too, burning just like mine.

  —Today we’ll return —she said calmly, as if she were talking about the weather—. The pending mission has been canceled. Virelle has already recovered, and we’ve been ordered back to the academy… to deliver the report on the outpost and to have our wounds checked. No more risks until the council evaluates everything.

  A strange knot formed in my throat. Part of me had already grown used to the strangeness of Lumina Umbrae, but I also longed to see my sisters again.

  Nysha stirred in her sleep, letting out a small sigh as she clutched me even tighter. I looked at her fragile arms wrapped around me, and despite the burning in my side, I smiled. Perhaps, for one night, I had been the one to give her hope.

  Dawn wrapped around us as the cold wind cut against our cheeks. Reia led the formation, though slower than usual; she was still pressing her wounded shoulder, and I… I could feel the burning in my side with every breath, a reminder of the bullet that had grazed me.

  It was Caelyn who spoke first, her voice soft but direct.

  —Lyss… —she said, turning her face slightly toward me—. How are you feeling?

  The wind seemed heavier at that question. I swallowed, uncertain.

  —A little tired… —I admitted—. And my side hurts. But I’m fine.

  Nysha glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her large eyes shining not with fear, but with something closer to concern.

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  —When you fell to the ground with Reia, I thought… —her voice cracked a little, but she steadied it—. I thought you wouldn’t get back up.

  Reia spoke then, firm yet warm.

  —And she did. —She gave me a brief smile, despite the pain in her own lips—. Lyss is stronger than she looks.

  —Strong and stubborn —Caelyn added with a faint smile—. Those two always come together.

  A small laugh escaped me, swallowed by the wind.

  —I suppose so.

  But the knot in my chest didn’t go away. There was something different in their gazes, as if for the first time they didn’t just see me as a stranger in their temporary squad, but as someone they truly wanted close.

  Nysha lowered her eyes, murmuring softly:

  —I’m glad you’re here…

  Reia heard her, and her voice was a steady thread in the wind.

  —We all are.

  And we kept flying in silence, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. Now… it felt lighter.

  When we landed in the academy’s courtyard, the sun was already high, painting the towers in familiar shades of gold. The air smelled of warm stone and freshly baked bread drifting from the kitchens. It was… home.

  Venesse was waiting at the entrance, standing tall as always, arms open and her smile wrapping around us like an embrace. One by one, she welcomed us: Nysha with a kiss on the forehead, Caelyn with a calming clasp of hands, and me with a gentle touch on the cheek. She held Reia a moment longer, sensing what we all knew: that she was still in pain.

  —Welcome home, daughters —she said in that tempered voice that carried everything we had borne—. Come with me. We need to talk… and to tend to your wounds.

  She led us into her office, softly lit by warm lamps. On the low table she had already set out a tray with fresh bread, cheese, sliced fruit, and a steaming teapot. The aroma filled the room, wrapping around us like an invisible embrace.

  —Before any report… eat something —she said, with firm tenderness—. None of my daughters will speak on an empty stomach.

  Nysha was the first to take a piece of bread, her hands still trembling, and Venesse brushed her hair gently, as if to soothe her. She poured Caelyn tea and added a spoonful of honey without being asked, as though she already knew what her quiet sadness needed to soften it.

  When she handed me a cup, her fingers brushed mine with a warmth that made me lower my gaze. It wasn’t just the gesture—it was the certainty that she saw me… not as a weapon, not as a soldier, but as a daughter.

  Reia, however, she treated with special care. She gently moved her hair aside from her wounded shoulder and adjusted the bandages with the patience of someone who knew the person before her would never admit just how much it hurt.

  —You are strong, yes… but even hope needs to rest —she murmured, smiling tenderly.

  For several minutes there were no reports, no tension. Just us, sharing bread and tea, listening to Venesse’s voice fill every corner with a love that made us forget the cold outside.

  —I’m proud of you —she said finally, her gaze moving across each of us—. Not only because you fulfilled your duty… but because you came back together. For me, that means everything.

  The silence that followed was different. Not uncomfortable, not heavy. It was the warm silence of home.

  Reia was the first to speak while Venesse poured us fresh water.

  —We found an Eiswacht forward outpost… hidden in the abandoned village —she reported, her voice firm despite her exhaustion—. The soldiers were… different. As if they weren’t fully aware.

  Venesse nodded, her eyes shining with that mix of tenderness and gravity only she could hold.

  —I’ll report it to the Command. They’ll investigate what remains. You did the right thing.

  Then her attention shifted to Reia and me.

  —Now, show me those wounds.

  We obeyed. I pulled back my clothes, revealing the graze on my side where the bullet had left a reddened bruise that burned at the touch. Venesse took a jar of thick ointment from a small shelf, its bitter herbal scent filling the air, and applied it with care. The coolness soothed me instantly, though the sting still lingered beneath my skin.

  Reia, however, was not so fortunate. Her shoulder still bled faintly, the skin around it blackened as if rejecting any treatment. Venesse cleaned the wound carefully, wrapping it in bandages soaked in another salve. The gesture was delicate, but her brow was furrowed.

  —This won’t heal as quickly as it should. Eiswacht’s weapons are playing with things I don’t fully understand.

  Reia pressed her lips together, brushing it off.

  —It’s nothing, mother. Just the nature of anti-magic. It will heal with time.

  But Venesse shook her head softly.

  —Perhaps… but even so, I want this looked at more thoroughly. Wounds like these are no game.

  Reia smiled faintly, tired but radiant.

  —I will. I promise.

  The silence that followed felt heavy, yet familiar. We were home. And though Reia’s wound throbbed as a reminder of what we had faced, it was also proof that we had returned alive.

  When we stepped out of Venesse’s office, night had already fallen fully over the academy. The air was cold, carrying that scent of damp stone that always seemed to linger in the halls after a long day.

  And there they were.

  Velka, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, wearing that crooked smile that always seemed on the verge of a joke. Neyra, straight as a statue, though her gray eyes immediately found me the moment I crossed the threshold. Caelia, serene, her hands clasped in front of her, but with a gentle glow in her gaze that made me feel as if I had never left.

  I didn’t have time to say anything. Velka wrapped me in a crushing hug, squeezing me as if to make sure I was really back.

  —You took too long, wife —she teased, though her voice trembled just slightly.

  Neyra came next, gripping my shoulders firmly.

  —Are you alright? —she asked, direct as always, but with a strange warmth hidden beneath her rigidity.

  Caelia didn’t speak at first. She simply pulled me into a quiet, almost solemn embrace, as if by holding me she was silently affirming: you’re home now.

  A lump formed in my throat. They weren’t just my comrades. They were my sisters. And in that instant, more than ever, I understood that nothing could replace that bond.

  Reia, who had walked behind me, paused a step back and watched them with a serene smile. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Her gaze was enough: she perfectly understood where my heart truly belonged. Velka didn’t let go until Neyra gave her a little tap on the arm, as if to remind her I also needed air. We all laughed, and that light laughter soothed me more than any bandage.

  —Come on —Caelia said, nodding toward the hall—. Let’s go to the dormitory. No need to stand here like guards on duty.

  I followed them, feeling my steps grow lighter in rhythm with the familiar sound of their shoes against the floor. The dormitory was warm, lit only by a couple of lamps casting soft glows across the walls. My things were still there, untouched, as if I had never been gone.

  We settled into our usual places: Neyra sitting upright against the headboard of her bed, back straight; Velka sprawled face-down across her mattress, feet dangling in the air; Caelia perched neatly at the edge of hers, elegant even in relaxation. I dropped onto mine with a long exhale.

  —Tell us everything —Velka said, her eyes glinting with mischief—. And no summarizing. We want details.

  I swallowed and nodded. I told them. About the ruined village, the people still holding on, the enemy’s hidden outpost buried in what had once been my home, the soldiers lost within themselves… I didn’t embellish a thing. They didn’t need embellishments.

  Silence stretched after I finished. Until Neyra, with her usual bluntness, asked:

  —And what about Lumina Umbrae? Reia seemed… very attentive to you.

  I didn’t dodge it. I couldn’t.

  —She offered me a place with them —I confessed, my voice steady even as my chest burned—. Said I’d always have a space there.

  The three of them froze. Velka spoke first, though her voice held less mockery than usual.

  —And did you accept? —she asked, her gray eyes locked on mine as if trying to read me before hearing my answer.

  —No —I said firmly—. I’d never leave you. You’re my family.

  Caelia tilted her head, smiling with her usual serenity. Neyra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. And Velka… Velka threw a pillow at my chest before breaking into a real smile.

  —Idiot —she said, half laughing, half trembling—. As if you ever had a choice.

  The laughter that followed shattered any shadow left in the room. And as we laughed together, I understood: yes. This was my place. Here, with them.

  The laughter slowly faded, like embers that leave warmth even after the fire dies. I hugged the pillow to my chest, breathing deeply. I knew there was still something I had to tell them.

  —There’s something else… —I murmured, lowering my gaze—. In that place… I remembered. Fragments of when I awakened. I saw my house. I saw my mother yelling at me. I saw myself running… and then, the crater. —I swallowed, a knot burning in my throat—. It was like everything crashed down on me again.

  The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Velka suddenly sat up, moving to the edge of my bed, and grabbed my shoulders.

  —And you were carrying that alone? —she said, her voice trembling with anger and tenderness at once—. Why didn’t you tell us sooner, you fool?

  Neyra moved closer too, placing a steady hand on my arm.

  —You don’t have to face those memories alone —she said, her seriousness giving comfort instead of intimidation—. If they come back, we’ll be there to hold you.

  Caelia didn’t speak right away. She just sat beside me, close enough for her shoulder to brush mine, and offered me that small smile that always seemed to carry more than it showed.

  —What happened… doesn’t define you —she whispered softly—. But what you choose to do with it does. And you’re not alone in that choice.

  Heat rose to my face, but not out of shame. It was something else. A mixture of relief and fear. Of being seen.

  —Thank you… —I whispered, clutching the pillow tighter, as if it were the only way not to break.

  Velka slung an arm over my shoulders in a bold, decisive gesture.

  —Forget about Reia’s stupid hope. The real hope is you, with us. And I’m not letting anyone take that away.

  Neyra’s soft laugh and Caelia’s quiet nod sealed those words like an invisible pact. And in the middle of that improvised sisterhood, I understood that, even if my past was an abyss, here there were hands ready to hold me if I fell.

  Calm slowly returned to the dormitory, our laughter fading into a serene murmur. Each of them began to relax in her own space: Neyra meticulously arranging her blankets, Caelia absentmindedly braiding a lock of her hair, and Velka, as always, throwing one last joke before flopping onto her back with an exaggerated sigh.

  I tried to imitate that peace, but the knot in my chest wouldn’t dissolve. There was a different kind of shadow, more intimate, that had nothing to do with battles or wounds. My mind kept circling back to him. To Silas. To the way his gaze had lately seemed more distant, to the silences that hadn’t been there before. I was afraid the thread that bound us would break… and that idea scared me more than any enemy.

  I needed to see him. I needed to remind myself—and remind him—that there was still something between us. That it could be fixed, that not everything was lost.

  Velka glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, catching the weight in my breathing.

  —You’ve got that face of “I’m about to do something reckless,” —she said, half-laughing, half-serious.

  —Are you going to see him? —Neyra asked, direct as always, though her tone held more care than judgment.

  Caelia only tilted her head slightly, her gray eyes attentive, as if she could read everything I wasn’t saying aloud.

  I swallowed and nodded.

  —Yes… I need to talk to him.

  There were no further questions. Only a brief, heavy silence, and then the tacit acceptance of my sisters. They knew there were paths I had to walk alone.

  Seravenn streets, Dawn

  I walked to his house as if in a trance. My boots barely made a sound against the ground. I knew I’d find him there. We hadn’t agreed on a place or a time, but it didn’t matter. He was always there. And my heart knew it.

  When I knocked on the door, I didn’t even have to wait. Silas opened it as if he had felt me coming from blocks away.

  —Lyss… —he murmured, and his voice shattered me.

  He hugged me tightly before saying anything else. I sank into his warmth, into his scent, into that soft security that was his alone. He kissed me. And while the first kiss was short, restrained, the second was not. It was a release of everything we hadn’t said. My hand caressed his face, his neck. I pulled him closer. I don’t know if it was my emotion pounding in my chest, or if it was simply me… but I felt bolder, freer to touch him, to let myself go.

  He noticed the change—I know because he smiled against my lips.

  —Well… who are you and what did you do with my reserved Lyss?

  —Don’t you like it? —I asked playfully, sliding my fingers down his chest.

  —I love it —he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine—. It just surprises me. It’s a change. You used to be more… cautious.

  —And now?

  —Now you seem… more yourself —he said simply, with a tenderness that weakened my knees.

  I laughed softly.

  —Maybe I’m tired of holding back.

  —Then don’t —he said, kissing me again.

  We only pulled apart after a moment, still breathing fast.

  —We’re going out —he declared firmly, gripping my hand with decision—. Tonight we’re having a date. And that’s an order.

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  —An order? How bold…

  He smiled too, brushing my cheek.

  —You make me that way.

  We left his house hand in hand. We walked through the city, still slowly healing from its scars. He took me to a small square I barely knew, where a café stayed open at night. It was cozy, with warm lamps and soft music. We sat by a window.

  —So, you were with Lumina Umbrae? —he asked, stirring his tea—. Training, fighting, rebuilding cities… and you didn’t tell me a thing?

  —I wanted to tell you in person —I replied, shrugging.

  —Hmm… sounds like a spy’s excuse —he teased.

  —Maybe… I’m an emotional spy.

  He laughed, that laugh of his that was anything but common.

  We talked for a long while. I told him what I could, carefully choosing each detail, and he listened as if every word were a treasure. Sometimes he looked at me as if he couldn’t believe I was there with him. And I… I let myself be carried away more than usual. I rested my head on his shoulder, slid my fingers into his, lifted his chin to steal a kiss. The rage inside me felt like it opened floodgates… but only to love him more. To show it.

  —I like you like this —he told me at one point, stroking my hand—. I like you in every way, but like this… I feel you closer.

  —And doesn’t it scare you? —I asked quietly.

  —Why would it?

  I didn’t answer. I just kissed him.

  When we returned to his house, the street was already quiet, with lamplights flickering in the distance. He closed the door behind me, and for a moment I felt safe. The warmth of the room, the kettle murmuring on the table, the familiarity of those walls… it all should have calmed me.

  But the voices I’d overheard in the street repeated like knives in my mind: Where were the goddesses when they were needed?

  I clenched my teeth. The knot of rage and sorrow suffocated me.

  Silas offered me a seat on the couch and sat beside me, intertwining his fingers with mine.

  —Are you okay? —he asked, with that calm of his, as if his voice alone could hold me up.

  —Okay? —I repeated, my throat dry—. It’s always the same. We’re always the ones who failed. No matter what we give, what we bleed. It’s never enough.

  Silas held my shoulders with a tenderness that hurt.

  —Lyss… they didn’t say it with hate. People are confused, afraid. It wasn’t aimed at you.

  —And when do excuses stop? —I snapped, my voice breaking—. When does someone actually see what we carry? They ask us to always be strong… and us? When do we get to break?

  —Let me help you —he pleaded, his forehead against mine—. Let me share this with you.

  I don’t know the exact second I lost it. The scream tore out of me:

  —SHUT UP!

  And with it, I released it. A slash. Just a surge of crimson magic through the air. I didn’t think, I didn’t mean to. It just… happened.

  The line of energy grazed his arm. A clean wound, superficial… but real. The blood slid down silently, betraying him, staining his shirt.

  —Lyss… —he gasped, but his voice didn’t tremble—. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

  But I was the one who stepped back. One step. Two. Horror filled my chest. I saw the wound, I saw his face, and I saw myself reflected in his eyes. And for the first time… I feared myself.

  —No… I can’t… —I whispered, tears burning—. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…

  I opened the door and ran. The house fell behind me, his voice too. I didn’t hear if he called me. I only knew that if I stayed… I could break him.

  And him… I never wanted to hurt him.

  I ran.

  I didn’t know where to, only that I had to get away. From him. From what I’d done. From what I am.