The sound was still ringing.

Not a sound, exactly—something older than sound, a pressure, a name trying to be spoken through a mouth that did not exist. It lingered in the air like the ghost of a thunderclap. Elaria felt it inside her ribs, inside her teeth, inside the trembling line where her shadow no longer matched her body.

She didn’t dare breathe.

Because breathing might admit that she had heard it.

Because breathing might confirm that she was not alone.

The light from the rupture ...