Chapter 32

Grace's hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

The tiny room felt smaller with every passing minute, as if the walls were inching closer, trying to crush the air out of her lungs. A flickering overhead bulb buzzed like an insect trapped in amber, casting jagged shadows across the floor. The silence wasn't peaceful—it was full with dread.

She paced across the cracked linoleum floor, her phone gripped tightly in one hand like a lifeline. The other hand kept curling and uncurling against her chest, her fingernails digging into the cotton of her sweater as if pressure could keep the panic inside.

Luna's voice still echoed in her ears.

“Grace?”

It had been cautious. Raw. Laced with disbelief, but undeniably familiar.

Hearing her again had felt like stepping barefoot into a memory—painful, but grounding.

“She remembered the lullaby,” Grace whispered, half to herself. “She remembered the hummingbird…”

“You did the right thing.”

The voice came from the corner of the room. Soft. Steady. Wrapped in sha