I didn't sleep the night after the false vision, so I left for my own place.
Not because Adrian was gone, though the hollow in my chest told a different story, but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw that flicker of him again. The fake Adrian.
The one The Veil used like a puppet, pulling at the most vulnerable strings inside me.
A cheap trick, but it was a terrifyingly effective one.
His voice had echoed inside my skull like a memory sharpened into a blade.
Elena… come closer.
Even now, standing at my kitchen counter with a cup of untouched tea growing cold in my hand, the aftertaste of his phantom presence lingered like static on the tongue.
Adrian was in Meneza on a "routine meeting." His voice had been steady during our last call, but something in his tone, a subtle shift, had felt like he was bracing for a storm neither of us could see yet.
And here I was, alone, with a target drawn across my mind.
Such perfect hunting conditions.
****
