Noa didn’t sleep.

Not after what he saw. Not after what she unlocked.

He stood in front of the mirror, shirtless, chest heaving, eyes wild and unblinking.

Alessio leaned against the doorframe, watching him like one might watch a loaded gun dangerous, beautiful, and likely to explode.

“You’ve been staring at yourself for thirty minutes.”

Noa didn’t look away. “I can’t tell if this is still me… or if I’m just the aftermath of what she made.”

“You’re not her creation,” ...