Nevara
Midday light poured through the kitchen window, soft and clear, dusting the counter in pale gold. Outside, the world was still wet from last night’s mist—dew clinging to pine needles, collecting along the edge of the porch railing like beads of glass.
I leaned against the counter with my coffee in hand, watching the light stretch across faded cabinet doors. The chipped paint, the squeaky faucet, the tiny breath of breeze slipping under the door—all of it felt foreign and familiar at once.
I’d done it. I’d actually left.
And no one had come pounding on the door. No warriors. No summons. No Tobias.
Maybe they hadn’t even noticed.
That thought curled something bitter in my chest. Not surprise. Not pain. Just… confirmation.
I drained the last of my coffee, rinsed the mug in the s
