51 The Things We Don't SayThe sanctuary felt different.Nori couldn't explain why.Nothing had changed.The basement still smelled faintly of old paper and candle wax. The overhead lights still buzzed softly. The shelves were still crowded with battered books no one had touched in years.And yet something sat beneath the ordinary details.Pressure.Like the air before a storm.She stood near the kitchenette with a mug warming her hands and watched the room.Rafael sat at the large table covered in maps and handwritten notes. Bea leaned against the wall beside him, arms folded, expression unreadable.Kolden occupied the corner chair.Alive.Present.Still.Not healed.Not whole.But here.Across the room, Ilyra stood near the shelves pretending to study book spines while secretly observing everyone.Old habits died slowly.And then there was Gibor.Gibor watched the room the way a man might watch the ocean after spending his entire life being told it wasn't real.Confused.Uneasy.Fas
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