The room was quiet. Too quiet for a world that had seemed to shake beneath her feet the night before. Light filtered through the sheer curtains in thin, muted slats, brushing against the edges of the polished wooden floor. The sunlight should have felt comforting, warming, but it didn't. It felt heavy. Oppressive. Like it was holding its breath, waiting.
Raya lay against the edge of the bed, the sheets tangled around her legs, her arms crossed over her chest, staring at the ceiling as though it might explain the madness of the last twenty-four hours. The world outside her room continued, as if oblivious to the storm she carried in her chest, but she was trapped, still, in the echo of Adrian's words.
"We will be getting married soon."
