Reya’s POV
The night air was crisp enough to sting. It curled cold fingers over my damp skin, seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt and tugging at the ends of my still-wet hair. I should have felt relief stepping out of that cabin—space, distance, air that wasn’t heavy with the scent of an intruder—but instead my chest felt tighter with every breath.
I hadn’t put my contacts back in. My eyes, the ones I had hidden for years, were bare to the world. That alone made my skin itch.
I paced across the open stretch of gravel between the doctors’ housing units, boots crunching softly. The cabins sat low and square under the moonlight, their shadows stretching long toward the tree line. Every step felt too loud, every shift of gravel underfoot reminding me I was exposed.
Someone tried to
