CIARA’S POV
The moment my fingers touched Luna Dayo's hand, I reached for that familiar warmth inside me. The source. It always felt like holding sunlight between my palms, golden and alive and completely mine. This time, though, something felt different from the start.
The warmth shimmered across my fingertips and spread to Darragh’s mother’s hands like liquid fire. I closed my eyes, waiting for the vision to come. It always started the same way—a gentle pull, like sinking into warm water. But this time, the pull felt jagged. Wrong.
The vision split in two.
I was watching two scenes at once, overlapping like double-exposed photographs. My head pounded from trying to process both simultaneously, but I couldn't pull away. I never could, once the visions started.
In the first scene, Lun
