Chapter 7
EVANGELINE POINT OF VIEW
Friday morning arrives like a funeral march. Each step toward school feels heavier than the last. The binding stone's grip on me has tightened overnight. My wolf is barely a whisper now, so faint I wonder if I imagined her voice.
But I force myself to keep walking. Keep breathing. Keep existing.
The hallways blur past me in streams of color and noise. Students laugh and shout and live their normal lives while I float through like a ghost. Nobody sees me anymore. Nobody cares.
Maybe that's for the best.
First period drags by in a haze. I can't hold my pen steady enough to take notes. The words on the board swim together like fish in murky water. My head throbs with each heartbeat.
When the bell rings, I stay in my seat. Moving feels impossible. Lik
