Elena’s POV
Back in my room, I unpacked the bags from the boutique, each movement slow and deliberate. The soft fabric of a pale blue sweater brushed against my fingertips—smooth, comforting. But comfort was elusive. My chest felt tight, like a stone sat there, pressing down. The weight of the lies. The pretense. The future I couldn’t quite see.
A soft knock broke the quiet, startling me. My heart stumbled over itself as I turned sharply toward the door. Luna Avery stood there, her hand still on the frame. Her smile, warm and familiar, softened the sharp lines of her face, but her eyes—there was something in them. A flicker of excitement. Or expectation.
“Elena, sweetheart,” she said, her voice gentle but brimming with intent. “Do you have a moment?”
I swallowed the lump forming in my
