Hazel's Point of View
I unlock the door to my apartment and step inside, the familiar scent of lavender and parchment greeting me like an old friend. The moment I close the door behind me, the weight of the day presses down a little harder, tomorrow I’m leaving. With Drake.
My chest tightens at the thought, but I push it aside. I made the choice, and now I need to prepare.
I drop my bag by the couch and head straight for the small shelf in the corner of the living room where I keep the books I can’t part with, the ones that matter. I pull down my laptop first, slipping it into its case and setting it in the suitcase that’s already open on the floor. Then I start choosing the grimoires carefully, fingers running over worn spines and bookmarked pages. A few of them are old, the leather so
