Callie’s POV
The days began to take shape.
Not abruptly, nor with the comforting clarity of a long-established routine, but with that deceptive slowness with which new things settle into your life—almost without asking permission—until suddenly you find yourself repeating gestures, schedules, small decisions that begin to feel natural, as if they had always been there.
I woke up early.
Got ready without thinking too much.
Walked to the store along the same route, noticing the same buildings, recognizing a few faces without lingering on them, feeling that, little by little, the place was no longer entirely unfamiliar.
And that…
that was dangerous.
“You’re getting used to it,” Bellona murmured one morning as I crossed the street, coffee still warm in my hands.
“That’s what I wanted,
