SAMIRA
The room's too quiet after Gray leaves, his pine-and-storm scent lingering like a promise I don't know how to keep. I sit on this bed that's softer than anything I've slept on—softer than the pallet in the storage closet, softer than the stolen blankets we shared between six bodies trying to stay warm—and try to make sense of words that turned my whole life sideways.
My parents had names. Liwon and Suchin Lim. Not just ghosts I made up in the dark, not just the empty spaces where memories should be. Real people who laughed and fought and died protecting something.
Protecting me.
The silver threads under my skin pulse brighter than they have since I healed Luna Margaret, like they're waking up from whatever sleep the fever put them in. I press my palm against my forearm, watch th
