It wasn't the shadows that tore me apart, But the one I loved who shattered my heart.
My breath hitched. The world tilted on its axis.
That was my handwriting.
No—Athena's. Yet undeniably mine. The stubborn curve of the 't', the 's' that always looped a fraction too wide. Me. It was me. And the chilling blankness of not remembering writing it sent a tremor through me.
My chest constricted. Had Lucius planted it? How had it landed in Veryon's hands? And the question that clawed at me: why?
My mind spun, each possibility a darker shade than the last.
Before the thought could fully form, the door groaned open.
Footsteps.
Veryon.
Panic flared. My fingers fumbled, folding the paper with a desperate precision, shoving it back into its exact crease as my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I whirled around, forcing a smile onto my lips.
He entered, his gaze softening as it found mine.
"Are you alright, love?"
