CAMELLIA'S POV
The days following the Rite passed more quietly than I had expected.
Even I was surprised by how quickly the heaviness faded from my chest. I had expected to feel hollow for weeks, perhaps even months—to wake each morning with dread lodged beneath my ribs.
Instead, I found myself slipping back into my routines with an ease that felt almost unreal.
I wasn't depressed. I wasn't shattered. I wasn't even haunted.
If anything... I felt lighter.
As though something inside me had finally shifted, making room for me to breathe again.
My parents were a large part of that.
Mother hardly left my side. She fussed over me in the gentlest ways—preparing hot baths scented with lavender, combing my hair before bed, humming the same lullaby she used when I was little.
She even baked
