NyxaraThe girl stirred just before dawn.I’d been sitting in the battered armchair across the room all night, tail curled tight around my ankle, staring at her like she was a bomb that had already gone off. Blankets piled high, hot water bottle against her chest, my one decent towel wrapped around her wet hair after I’d thawed her out in the shower. She looked smaller than before—sixteen, maybe seventeen, all sharp bones and bruised hope.Her eyes fluttered open. Violet-rimmed, bloodshot, confused. They landed on me and widened.“You… you brought me inside,” she whispered, voice cracked from cold and crying.I didn’t answer right away. Just watched her try to sit up, wince, and sink back into the pillows I’d grudgingly given up from my own bed.“Where’s the money?” she asked suddenly, panic flashing as her hands patted the blankets.“On the counter,” I said flatly. “Still in the envelope. Untouched.”She relaxed a fraction, then the tears started again—silent this time, just tracks d
Dernière mise à jour : 2026-03-11 Read More