The first thing I felt was the cold.
It seeped in through the wooden floorboards, through the thin blanket draped over me, through the air itself. A forest cold—honest, sharp, untouched by palace marble or perfumed corridors. My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim, muted light leaking in through the cracks of the abandoned cabin.
For a moment, I didn't move. I simply listened.
The wind whispered through pine branches outside. The old cabin creaked softly. Elian breathed gently, fast asleep beside me, his small hand curled into the fabric of my dress like he feared I'd disappear again.
I stroked his hair, letting the truth settle into my bones.
I'm here. I escaped. I chose survival.
But then… the other truth followed.
I remember everything.
The hanging.
The choking.
The sound of my own neck cracking like thin ice beneath a boot.
Belleah's smirk as she pushed the last stone in place.
Darius's cold eyes—empty, like a stranger—watching me die.
I swallowed hard.
