Elora’s POV
I stayed put at the end of the table long after everyone left, just staring at the wood until the lines sort of melted together. My fingers dug into my temples. My head wouldn’t stop pounding, all those arguments echoing around, suspicion hidden in fake-nice words. Dante had stood next to me, not saying a word, but his jaw was set, eyes burning with stuff he was keeping locked up.
For a split second, I thought maybe they had let him back in. That maybe I could actually let myself believe it.
But then Mira... Mira....her voice, all quiet poison, started working its way through the crowd. She hadn't even needed to say it in the room. Her whispers slithered in before the meeting even started. Can we trust Dante? Didn’t he stab us in the back? What if Elora’s just blinded by wha
