The next morning, Sheila Feint woke with tension already sitting in her chest like a stone.
She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the image from her phoneher and Atticus standing too close, the angle intimate enough to suggest something that did not exist. Yet.
She stared at the ceiling of her apartment, replaying the anonymous message in her mind.
"You should be careful who you stand close to. Some kings don’t fall alone"
It wasn’t just a threat.
It was a warning wrapped in mockery.
And Sheila hated how effective it was.
By the time she reached the arena, the atmosphere felt… wrong.
Not openly hostile. Not dramatic. Just heavy. Like the building itself was holding its breath.
She swiped her access card and stepped inside, immediately catching the shift in
