POV: Luna
I haven't spoken since that final scream.
Can't speak.
My throat feels raw and broken, but that's not why I'm silent.
The words just won't come.
What is there to say?
Miguel is dead.
Everything else is meaningless.
Ryder carries me from the Moon Circle back toward the main building. I'm vaguely aware of Nova walking beside us, her hand on my arm. Other students have gathered, staring, whispering.
I don't care.
Let them stare.
Let them whisper.
None of it matters anymore.
My legs won't hold me. Every time Ryder tries to set me down, I stumble. So he just keeps carrying me, his arms steady and strong.
I should feel embarrassed. Vulnerable.
But I feel nothing except the crushing weight of grief.
We reach the entrance to the main building. The wards shimmer faintly in
