Elora’s POV
Mira’s door always hung half-open these days, a passive-aggressive little gesture, like she wanted people to see her defanged and innocent. Invitation or challenge, take your pick. I hovered there a sec, sucking in my nerves, then shoved it open wider. Sunlight slipped all over the bed, making her look even paler, practically glowing against the sheets. A breakfast tray sat untouched, perfectly tragic. The Mira Suffering Show, now playing daily.
She glanced up at me, all soft-lidded and blank, that fake spotlessness she wore like jewelry. Didn’t last, though. One brittle little smile and it cracked.
“Elora,” she purred, sugar so thick it made my teeth itch. “What a surprise.”
My boots hit the stone...click, click. Way too loud. On purpose? Maybe. Might as well announce to t
