Amara's POV

The car ride home with Dorian was a blur of controlled silence and a strange, quiet understanding. We didn't talk about what had happened, not the accusations or the public spectacle. He dropped me off at my house, a brief nod, a silent promise of a future conversation, and I walked inside, the silence of my home a profound, heavy thing.

The next morning, the world seemed to have moved on. The sun streamed through my window, a gentle, golden light that was a stark contrast to ...