Ava’s POV
I stood there watching as the genuine seer paused for a second, her arm outstretched in a patient gesture—not pushing, but simply extending an invitation.
“Raven?” I whispered her name. “Is it really you?”
She didn’t answer right away, and gradually her hand lowered. Without saying anything else, she pivoted smoothly and glided across the space.
As she walked, I saw her lift her hands to peel back the thick, enveloping scarf that had concealed so much of her features.
No, she didn’t possess the stunning allure of that earlier fraud, not by a long shot. Her cheekbones rose prominently, tempered by subtle wrinkles from years gone by and genuine experiences. Her complexion showed faint, light marks—reminders of a existence rooted in history and authenticity, far from any facade
