Ariana’s POV
The letter didn’t leave my hands immediately.
Even after I finished reading it—
Even after the words had already settled into something cold and heavy inside my chest—
I still held onto it.
Like letting go would somehow make it more real.
⸻
Stop looking for me.
You were never meant to find me.
Next time, I won’t run.
⸻
The words didn’t sound like fear.
They didn’t sound like someone in danger.
They sounded—
Certain.
⸻
And that frightened me more than anything else.
⸻
“She wrote it,” I said quietly.
⸻
It wasn’t a question.
⸻
Damien leaned slightly against the edge of the table, his arms folded, his gaze fixed on me—not the paper.
⸻
“Yes.”
⸻
No hesitation.
No doubt.
⸻
My fingers tightened slightly around the letter.
⸻
“She wasn’t forced,” I added.
