CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Far away from the warmth of Evan’s bedroom, the atmosphere across Moon Pack had already begun to shift.
It was subtle at first—like a breath held too long.
The sky, once bright with early afternoon light, had slowly dulled into a heavy, washed-out gray. Clouds rolled in without warning, thick and layered, swallowing the sun until its warmth became only a distant memory.
The wind moved differently now.
Not playful.
Not gentle.
It moved with purpose.
It slipped through the narrow streets of Moon Pack like an unseen observer, weaving between towering buildings, rattling loose shutters, and carrying with it faint whispers that no one stopped to question.
But the city itself seemed unaware.
Or perhaps unwilling to notice.
Because in places like these, ignorance was
