Elara’s POV
I roamed through the college campus, my boots dragging on the cobblestone walkways, my mind weighing down on me much more heavily than the backpack strapped across my back. The fall weather was dry with the smell of fallen leaves. Memories of my former life tore at me—my parents’ deaths, the chill of their coffins, the whisper of liquid silver that had stolen them three days after my eighteenth birthday. I’d been reborn to rewrite that destiny, to save them. Dad's shooting, the venom in his veins, was a warning of history that had returned to where it started. I squeezed my notebook more tightly, the pages full of leads that went nowhere.
Jasmine’s dismissal at the café had hurt, and their refusal to help was a sign that I was on my own in this. I had put too much hope into that, in the slim chance that she knew something about her father and his involvement with the Silver Crescent Casino. Now, with no new leads and Dad still weak in the hospital, I felt I was being swall
