Evelyn’s POV

I woke up on the floor.

My mouth was dry. My head throbbed. And everything—the couch, the curtains, even the lamp in Claire’s living room—looked… wrong. Tilted. Warped. Like I was seeing the world through water.

The last thing I remembered was Serana’s voice. Sweet. Calm. Like syrup laced with poison. She’d stepped inside with that cold smile, said something about “needing to talk,” and ...