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Chapter 32: The Weight of a Choice (Kai POV)
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2026-03-16 13:00:49She said it so simply that I almost missed it.
We were still at the table, the plates pushed to the side, her tea gone cold the way she always let it go cold when she got absorbed in thought. She was looking out the window when she turned back to me with an expression I hadn't seen on her before. Not the careful neutrality she wore around the council, not the brittle composure she held together with both hands during the worst of it. Something quieter. More deliberate.
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(Theo POV)I walked back through the rain with my hands in my pockets and my collar up and the image of her standing in Mira's doorway still sitting behind my eyes.I had gone because Mira had not sent a message in two days and that was not like her, and the last time Mira went quiet for two days without explanation something had been wrong, and I had learned a long time ago not to wait for Mira to ask for checking on. I had rounded the corner of the alley and seen the light from the open door and then I had seen the dark coat and the green scarf and the particular way she was standing and I had turned around and walked back the way I came.Mira had probably seen me. I did not know if Lena had.It did not matter either way because I had kept walking.Curtis looked up from the table when I came through the door. He had a cup in his hand, halfway to his mouth, and he set it back down when he saw my face."You were gone twenty minutes," he said."I know," I said.I pulled the door shut b
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(Lena POV)I kept my hand on the back of the chair, my knuckles white against the dark, worn wood. Mira was still standing there, her shadow cutting across the floorboards, her eyes fixed on mine with a weight that made the air in the kitchen feel thick and hard to swallow. I looked at the candle on the table, the flame dancing in a draft I couldn't feel, casting jagged flickers of orange across the gold coins in the leather pouch."I did it to clear my conscience," I said.The words felt thin, like dry leaves. I reached for a loose thread on the hem of the cream sweater and pulled it, the wool tightening around my waist. I didn't look at her. I focused on the way the water was beaded on the glass, each drop reflecting the dim light of the room before it slid down into the darkness of the sill.Mira didn't move. She didn't blink. She just stood there, her hands resting on her hips, her mouth pulled into a flat, hard line.
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