The sun was a cold, indifferent eye in the morning sky. It did nothing to warm the chill that had settled in Rex’s bones. He hadn't slept, couldn't sleep. The truth was a heavyweight, pressing down on him. He wasn't just a victim. He was a weapon. The thought twisted in his gut, a constant, bitter reminder of his foolishness.
Luna slept on the couch, exhausted from their long night of searching. The lamplight still burned, a small, defiant flame against the encroaching dawn. Rex watched her, a pang of guilt sharp in his chest. He had pulled her into this, into the wreckage of his past.
He walked to the window, staring out at the city. It was a beautiful skyline, a monument to steel and glass. But all he could see were the ghosts. The ghosts of the old town, the one that had been destroye
