EMMA
I felt it before I understood it.
The moment the gates of Lune Noire slid shut behind me, something in the air shifted—like the estate itself exhaled a breath it had been holding too long. The road ahead was narrow, winding through snow-dusted trees, the world quiet in a way that felt wrong. Too still. Too aware.
I told myself it was just adrenaline. Just grief. Just the echo of a place that had gotten under my skin too fast.
But my hands were shaking on the steering wheel, and my chest felt tight, like I’d left something vital behind and my body knew it before my mind could catch up.
I drove for several minutes before I realized I was crying.
Not sobbing. Not dramatically. Just tears slipping silently down my face, blurring the road until I had to pull over. I pressed my forehe
