Elara’s POV~The sound of knocking on my dorm room door jolted me — sharp and urgent in the still of the night. A chill rippled through me, and suddenly, I stopped mid-writing, my notebook falling away from my lap. I’d been on edge all day, the forged treason document a weight I couldn’t shake. I shuffled to the door, my feet aching against the chilled wood, and looked through the peephole. Jasmine was there dark hair, wide-eyed with fear, clenching her purse. Surprise washed over me — Jasmine, at my door? She’d kept her distance from me after the café, her allegiance to her father obvious. What was she doing here?I waited, unsure, and then I opened the door, my greeting tentative. “Jasmine? What’s wrong?” She flinched, looking down the hall, breathing in uneven gasps.“I have to talk,” she said in a whisper, her voice breaking. “Elara, please let me inside.” Her terror washed over me. I moved to the side to usher her in, the dim lamplight of my dorm room playing shadows on her white
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