Amara's POV

That night, I couldn’t sleep. The rain had stopped, but its echo still clung to the windows, dripping down the glass in slow, uneven trails. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and polished wood. I sat by the window, knees drawn to my chest, watching the lights of the city flicker far in the distance. So close and yet impossibly far away.

My mind kept replaying everything that had happened. The police station. Garvin’s smug voice. The look on the officers’ ...