Chapter 157Camilla POVI keep walking even after I leave the lower archives, but my steps don’t feel like mine anymore.They feel automatic.Controlled.Like my body is still following rules my mind has already broken.The corridor is quiet in the way the pack house only becomes late at night—heavy, still, almost respectful. The kind of silence that usually feels safe.Tonight, it doesn’t.Tonight, the silence feels like it is listening.I press my fingers lightly against the cold stone wall as I walk, not because I need support, but because I need something solid to remind me I am still here. Still real. Still in control.But I am not fully in control.Not anymore.Because my thoughts are still down there.In the archive room.In the dust-covered shelves.In the hidden chest that should have been meaningless, forgotten, irrelevant.Except it wasn’t.It was too structured for something forgotten.Too preserved.Too carefully arranged in a way that suggested someone, somewhere, had on
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