RAVENNA
I was reorganizing the eucalyptus for the third time that morning when Mira finally sighed loud enough to shake the rafters.
“Okay,” she said, slamming a jar of dried chamomile onto the counter. “Enough pretending those leaves are going to whisper life advice.”
“I’m not pretending,” I mumbled, adjusting one that was already perfectly straight. “I’m aligning… their energies.”
She stared at me.
I avoided eye contact and started again from the top row.
“Cera,” she said gently, voice softening. “It’s been almost a week.”
“I know.”
“You haven’t said a word to Elias since that… mess.”
“I know.”
Mira came around the counter and leaned against the shelves beside me. “He’s miserable, you’re miserable. Even the basil looks like it wants to pack up and leave.”
I stared hard at the
