Nevara
The bathroom felt smaller than it had just an while ago.
Not physically—nothing about the space had changed—but the weight of what we were about to do pressed in from all sides, tightening the air, sharpening every sound. The broken window loomed above us, jagged edges catching the dim light, the towel draped across the sill the only thing standing between escape and injury.
Noah stood close to me, still waking up fully, his hand wrapped tightly around mine. I could feel the nerves in him now, the shift from sleepy confusion into quiet awareness as he looked between us.
Thoren stepped in front of me.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
He just looked at me.
And I felt it—that same pull, that same unspoken understanding that this could go wrong in a hundred different ways, t
