Aurora's POV
The only valid explanation for the stunt I just pulled was that I was running mad. Extremely mad at that.
Whatever it was that had made me scream for Nevio instead of taking that chance to escape… and most maddeningly of all—was the fact that I ran for him.
“Madness,” I muttered as I stepped into the house, a sudden migraine hitting me like a wave crashing against rock.
My vision slurred, the light overhead flickered, and then suddenly—everything blurred.
The hallway in front of me shifted. The scent of gunpowder and blood was replaced by something else—lemon cleaner, burning candles… laughter?
I blinked.
I was still in the same house. But not like this.
Not with cracked tiles and broken memories.
Back then, the house was feeling warm. I was younger—barely seventeen.
