Naomi’s POV
The wind had picked up.
It whipped around us as we crossed the lawn, the scroll gripped tightly in my hands. Logan walked beside me, jaw tight, eyes scanning every shadow. Marcus flanked my other side, arms crossed like a wall of muscle and tension.
The silence still hadn’t broken.
It hung thick and strange, like the calm before a storm—or the breath after one.
People were everywhere now.
Some in uniform, others in pajamas and coats hastily thrown over nightwear. Mothers with their children. Warriors with fresh bruises. Elders standing like ghosts in the fog.
All of them staring.
At me.
I didn’t realize I’d stopped walking until Logan touched my shoulder.
“Naomi,” he said softly. “You ready?”
No.
But I nodded anyway.
We made our way to the center of the courtyard,
