There I was, still stuck in that Joravia Town healer's room, throat shredded from the voice-box trauma—couldn't muster a whisper if my life depended on it.
Propped on the bed, I stared at the live feed on my phone: Ian and Clara's meltdown playing out in real time. But inside? Not a flicker of sweet revenge. Just... empty.
"Still not hitting the spot?" The door swung wide—Edward strolled in, arms loaded with this massive spray of blue blooms. Sunlight caught the petals, twisting 'em to some eerie purple glow.
"You and your weird-a*s flowers again." I thumbed out on my phone, dodging the question, squinting at those four-lobed oddballs.
"Arabian resurrection bloom—cozy with ladybugs, tough as nails, screams 'survived the jaws of hell.' Fits you perfect." He crooked a grin, holding the b
