Liora
The snow had started to fall harder by the time Ezra and I reached the quiet path behind the restaurant. The world around us was silent except for the soft crunch of our footsteps. My breath came out in small white clouds, the air so cold it stung my throat. I didn’t look back, not even once.
Then I heard her voice.
“Liora, wait!”
I stopped instinctively, my whole body going rigid. Ezra turned slightly, his hand brushing my arm, ready to step between us if needed. But I shook my head and faced her.
Helen was running through the snow in her boots, her coat slipping off one shoulder, her face flushed from the cold and the chase. For a second, I thought she looked different than she had inside the restaurant. Not polished or smug—just messy, almost human.
“What do you want, Helen?
