045

Selene’s POV

The walk home felt longer than it should have. Rachel kept stealing glances at me, and I knew what was coming before her lips even parted.

“So,” she began carefully, “are you going to tell me who she was? That woman?”

I didn’t answer immediately. My fingers were cold, even though the afternoon sun still lingered on the street.

“Selene,” Rachel pressed, matching her pace to meet mine. “Was she someone from you know before?”

Before. That word held too much. Before the scars. Before I remembered what it meant to fight for air in your own life, in your own home.

“She was...a friend,” I said eventually.

Rachel frowned. “A friend who looked like she wanted to eat you alive and then hug you at the same time?”

I gave a dry laugh. “You’re not far off.”

We passed the corner florist, the scent of lavender and soil rushing out toward us. A delivery van rumbled by, honking once as it dodged a cyclist.

“She was involved with my Ex-husband,” I finally said, watching a pair of