Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ*:.:..:...VALERIA'S P.O.V...:..:..:*Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
I didn’t get a reply from Malcolm, and after fifteen minutes of waiting, pacing back and forth in my apartment, I decided I couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. My mind was racing, and the mark on my stomach weighed heavily on me, both physically and emotionally. I grabbed my sketchpad and sat at the small desk by the window, where the soft light of the afternoon spilled in. My hands moved with precision as I sketched the mark, trying to capture every intricate detail, every curve and line, just as I had seen it. It wasn’t just an ordinary mark—it felt like it carried a message, a weight I didn’t fully understand yet.
When I finished, I stared at the drawing for a moment, feeling both a sense of accomplishment and unease. It was eer
