SERAPHINA’S POV
I woke to the sound of the sea.
Not the violent crash or sharp slap of water, but the slow, breathing rhythm of waves folding into themselves, over and over again.
The room was washed in pale morning light, the curtains stirring softly as if nudged awake alongside me.
For a moment, I lay still, suspended between sleep and memory.
Then the memory of my mother’s call surfaced, unbidden.
The clipped pauses. The careful half-answers. The way she’d evaded again, as she always did.
A small knot formed beneath my ribs—not sharp enough to hurt, not heavy enough to crush. Just…there.
‘You’re allowed to feel it,’ Alina said gently.
I exhaled into the pillow. ‘I know.’
‘But you’re not allowed to let it slow you.’
That drew a faint smile. I rolled onto my back, eyes tracing the ceiling beams. The disappointment lingered, thin and translucent, like morning mist—present, but already dissolving in the light.
