Freya didn’t say a word because she knew deep down that what Samantha had told her was true. No matter how hard she wished otherwise, every syllable rang with a brutal honesty she couldn’t escape. She only lowered herself onto the bed, curling into herself as if the softness beneath her could swallow her pain. Samantha stayed close, but there was nothing more to say.
The following days blurred together. Each morning Freya woke up with the same weight on her chest, a heavy reminder that the human world was no longer hers. She had carried the fantasy stubbornly for months, believing that somehow she would slip away, that somehow she would return to streets where no one knew her name, where no destiny pressed against her shoulders. But the reality was merciless.
The door to her old life was
