Naya’s POVThere was something almost… normal about the morning.For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t waking up to fear, or pain, or the suffocating weight of unanswered questions pressing against my chest. Just the soft clatter of utensils, the low hum of a kettle, and Winnie’s quiet voice filling the small kitchen.I stood by the counter, slicing vegetables, the rhythmic motion of the knife grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.Winnie leaned against the opposite side, stirring something in a pot, occasionally glancing at me with that soft, watchful look she’d adopted ever since we got here.We talked. About nothing important. About everything.And for a while… I laughed.A real laugh. Not forced. Not hollow.It startled me more than anything else.Because it felt like me.But then… Just like that…it slipped.My hand slowed mid-slice.My mind drifted.Zane.The way his voice used to wrap around my name. The way his presence filled every space, every sil
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