LIORA'S POV
Thorne’s hands were still resting on Finn’s shoulders as I leaned against the doorframe, gasping for air. The room felt like it was spinning. The afterimage of Victor’s frustrated face from my vision, the way he looked standing on our porch in the daylight was replaying in my mind.
“Liora? Breathe,” Elias said, his hand steadying my arm.
I blinked, and the living room slowly came back into focus. The smell of Thorne’s old books and the faint scent of lavender from Lena’s tea grounded me. I looked at the group; their faces were etched with a mix of terror and desperate hope.
“I saw him,” I whispered, my voice still a bit shaky. “I saw Victor. He was here, on our porch. But it wasn't tonight. It was daylight. He was angry. He was shouting about how we didn't have records, ho
