Lila’s P.O.V.
The community hall felt like a trap closing around me, the air thick and stale with the scent of old wood polish and too many bodies crammed into one space. My heart hammered against my ribs as I sat there, Shayla fidgeting in my lap, her small fingers twisting the hem of my blouse. Lucas pressed closer to my side, his warmth a fragile shield against the cold stares from the mediators at the high table. Aiden gurgled softly in his sling, oblivious to the storm brewing. I wished I could be like him—innocent, unburdened. But no, I was here, summoned like a criminal, my life unraveling in front of strangers who held the power to judge me.
Mr. Harlan, the chief elder, leaned forward in his chair, his voice booming across the room like thunder rolling in from the hills. His face
