ELISA'S POV.
The kitchen was quiet when I slipped inside, the kind of quiet that comes just before dawn. The air still smelled of last night’s stew—rosemary, a hint of smoke, and the sweet scent of bread.
Kara and Mona were already there. Kara’s strong hands pressed into a mound of dough while Mona chopped onions, her knife making a gentle tap-tap on the board. They both looked up when the door creaked.
“Elisa?” Kara straightened, flour dusting her apron. “You’re up early. I thought you'd still be asleep after what happened last night. No one would have blamed you for sleeping in this time. Or… couldn’t you sleep?”
I closed the door behind me, my heart beating faster than it should. I forced a small smile. “Something like that.”
Mona frowned. “You look pale. And you still look weak. S
