Inside, the halls buzzed with morning chaos—slamming lockers, shrill laughter, the scent of cheap perfume and cafeteria coffee lingering in the air. I followed Sage to our first class, but my mind wasn’t in it.
Every time I glanced at the clock, my chest tightened. Nothing had happened yet. Not a single thing. And that almost made it worse—like the quiet was just the inhale before something big and terrible.
By lunch, I was half-asleep at our usual table. My tray sat untouched except for the salad, where I’d been pushing the same limp piece of lettuce around for the last ten minutes.
Sage said something across from me, but it came through muffled, like I was underwater.
“Elara?”
I blinked at her. “Hmm? Sorry, what?”
“I asked if anything looked familiar,” she said, irritation bleeding
