Inside a carefully designed, vast bedroom—far too large for someone barely one sixty in height. Gwyneth stood frozen in awe. From the towering bed and plush carpet to the endless array of dolls and soft bears lined up against ornate glass displays, everything radiated warmth and impossible luxury. The air smelled faintly of lemon and citrusy.
Lev watched her with delight, his voice soft as he introduced every part of the room. Every item had a story, a personal touch. But what caught Gwyneth’s attention most was the glowing half-moon fixed to the ceiling. At first, she thought it was a painting, but then it blinked at her and gave her an exaggerated smile, like an emoji she was familiar with back on Earth.
Before she could blink, the glowing orb darted downward, zipping straight for her.
